Under the Watchful Eye
by DCFanatic4life
Summary: AU. Stephanie McMahon knows he's always watching, she can feel his eyes on her, always...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or real people in this story. The characters are owned by the WWE and the real people own themselves.

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**A/N: So I must be crazy because I'm starting another new story. I think I'm just a glutton for punishment. I was trying to get online one day and while I was waiting, this idea struck.

Anyways, this story is AU and it's pretty different from my other stuff, for one, it's in first person perspective, Stephanie's POV to be exact. Please leave a review and let me know if I should continue, if you want to be brutal, go right ahead. Thanks. :)

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I think I was seven when I first saw him.

It must've been around that age. Maybe he was around before that and I just can't remember. There are a lot of things I don't remember from when I was a kid. It's like your brain picks and chooses what it wants to remember and what it wants to let fade. It's sad, really, that there are moments in this world that will never be remembered. But that's what happens, moments are lost. So maybe I had seen him before and just don't remember. I think I would have, but who knows.

That first time, it was just out of the corner of my eye. I was sitting there and I could feel a gaze on me. Funny how you know when eyes are on you even when you're not looking. I didn't know who would be looking at me though and being the little kid that I was, I didn't much care about other people or things. I should have though because then maybe I would understand things better. I turned my head, but then, nobody was looking at me so I figured I must have been imagining the eyes on me. Oh well, it was no big deal.

But then, sometimes I'd be sitting in class and I'd look over and just get a glimpse of blue eyes staring at me and then nothing. It piqued my interest then, but then recess would come and I'd go out and play with my friends and forget all about the staring. I didn't mind it really. I mean, I did, but I tried not to notice it. I would just go about my day and forget about it and then later, I'd see him again and he'd be looking again, but only for a second and then again, nothing.

I didn't even think it strange. I must have been a strange child myself not to think it was strange to be stared at like that. I think kids are just more accepting. That's why parents have to tell their kids not to go off with strangers. A kid will just go off with anyone, believe anything. They're so gullible, it's no wonder parents put them on leashes like animals, they are little animals. So accepting when there's no real reason to be. It's insane. I don't know what I was thinking. Someone staring at you is never normal.

When I got to high school, I noticed him a lot more. I'd see him standing down the hallway and he'd be staring at me. I'd stare back defiantly. I was a rebel, I wasn't going to take this lying down. I wasn't going to bow my head and act like I wasn't seeing him. I saw him alright and I wanted to make sure _he_ knew that I saw him. So I'd stare straight at him and we'd have a staring contest. I always looked away first. I couldn't help it, he would just stare at me. I never wanted to go up and talk to him. I didn't think it appropriate. I don't know why, it just didn't seem like a good idea.

I finally worked up that courage when I was sixteen. I'd caught him staring again. I marched straight up to him and stood in front of him. He stayed there. "What do you want?"

He didn't answer me, he just looked at me and smiled slightly.

"Do you even talk? _Can_ you even talk?" I demanded to know. I'd never heard his voice, maybe he couldn't talk.

"I can talk," he said and his voice was low and hoarse, like he hadn't used it in a while. It also floated through the air, like it didn't even interrupt the stillness of it.

"Why are you always staring at me? Why are you always around me!" I wanted to know.

It wasn't that he was bad to look at or anything. I think it could've been much worse. He could've had a weird face, lanky limbs, limp, greasy hair that covered his face. He never looked like that though. No, he was so well kept. He had blond hair, beautiful hair, hair that I would be completely envious of under any other circumstances. He kept it tied back, I could see that clear as day. He had blue eyes. They pierced, like swords into my skin. They'd pierced it since I was a little kid. I knew those eyes as well as my own it seemed.

He didn't answer and that pissed me off, I wanted to know what he was doing when he was staring at me. "Who are you? What's your name?"

"Chris," he answered.

"Well, I don't like you, _Chris_," I told him. "I don't like you one bit and you can just disappear for all I care."

I didn't care at the time. I really didn't. He could've just disappeared and I wouldn't have cared. Sure, he wasn't horrible to look at, like I said, but I still didn't want him constantly staring at me. I wondered if anyone else had this problem. Did Chris like me, is that why he was constantly around? Is that why he wouldn't leave me alone? I didn't know and whenever I'd gather up the nerve to converse with him, he never told me. I'd demand and demand, like a little kid wanting candy, and he'd never give me an answer and I'd always tell him to get lost.

I tried to stop noticing him, but it was difficult. By the time I was graduating high school, I'd gotten used to his presence, but I always knew it was there. He was like a stalker, constantly tracking me wherever I went and I didn't get why I was so special to him. Why did I garner such attention? But then I thought, maybe when he's not around me (and sometimes he isn't) he's staring at someone else. Maybe I'm not the only one he torments. It comforted me, that thought, that this stalker character might stalk someone on the side.

I thought, maybe when I go to college, maybe when I move away, he'll leave me alone. It was such a comforting thought when I'd see him those last few months before I moved to Boston to go to college. I kept thinking, "It's okay, stare now, stare all you want because I'm leaving and if you think I'm coming back, I'm not. When I do come back, I'll live somewhere where you can't find me. Maybe I'll never come back, maybe that's it." I'd think it defiantly and I'd stare at him. He wasn't going to follow me to college like some love-sick puppy.

Then, first day, I'm setting up my dorm room, I look out the window and there he is. He wasn't staring up at me, but there he was, like he knew this was where I was staying. I sat down heavily on my bed. Thoughts of the cops came into my mind, but he'd be gone before they got here. I'd tried that once back home. I was fifteen at the time and I'd told my parents and they'd called the cops, but he was gone before they got there. Now here he was again and I didn't want to see him again, but he wasn't going to leave me alone.

So I accepted my fate. What else could I really do? I couldn't think of a way to get rid of him, to get him to stop watching me, stalking my every move so I had to learn to deal. I did it in high school, I could do it again. I got friends, I had boyfriends, I ignored his very existence. I didn't go up to him and try to talk. I didn't demand answers. I just let him be. If he wanted to stare, fine. Maybe one day he'd come up to me and talk and tell me everything I wanted to know. I'd grown up with him, but I still knew next to nothing about him. But I wasn't going to prod anymore, it was all up to him.

I actually forgot about him for a while. Looking back, I'm sure he was still around, but I just didn't take notice of it. I lived my life and college was fun. I knew I'd be working for my father when the time came. I would be set for life with a job and that eased a lot of my worry as I made my way through college. It allowed me to actually have fun and it was probably in that fun that I forgot about him and his very being. I wouldn't say it was the happiest time of my life. It wasn't like he was an annoyance, well, not an overt annoyance. His presence was an annoyance, but I didn't know enough about him to be annoyed.

So when he showed up at my place of work after I'd graduated, I was startled by his appearance. I visibly shuddered and my brother, who'd been walking next to me, turned to me and asked, "Are you alright, Steph?"

I looked ahead again and sure enough, there he was, looking like he'd never left. I shook my head, "Nothing, Shane, I was just thinking."

"Thinking about what?"

"Just work," I told him.

Shane seemed to be appeased by that answer and kept walking. I walked right by Chris and he watched me. I didn't look at him though, I didn't want Shane to ask me what was the matter. So I just ignored him, like usual, like I'd been doing for years now. I didn't look back either, but he was watching again. He'd been watching me for 18 years now and he wasn't going anywhere it seemed. He was just going to keep watching me and keep watching me.

When I saw him in my office later that evening, I had no choice but to look up at him. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here," he said simply.

"I can see that," I told him. "I thought I left you behind."

"You didn't."

"Well, I'm going to ignore you again. I know you were probably being your usual, creepy self all this time, all the time I ignored you, but I ignored you once, I can do it again," I told him.

"Okay," he answered simply.

"Okay? Just like that? Just like that, okay?"

"You can ignore me."

"I'm going to," I said petulantly.

"Okay," he repeated.

"Why don't you leave me alone too? Surely there's someone else, surely there's someone else you can bug and stalk and watch," I said, my voice almost coming around to pleading.

"No, there's nobody else."

The words unsettled me more than I'd like to admit. But I'd be damned if I showed it.

"Well fine, I'm going to ignore you then," I said, looking down. I looked down for at least five minutes and then when I looked up again, he'd left and I sighed in relief.

I tried to ignore him, I really did, but it was hard. He was where I worked, there was no escape there. But I tried. I would go about my business and that's where I am today, sitting here, at the gorilla, looking over some papers. I'm 24 years old and I'm being stalked, well, that's too hard to say. I'm kind of being stalked, I'm being watched and the man's name is Chris. He's watching me right now, I can feel his eyes on me. The feeling is as natural to me as breathing. But no time for that now. Paul Levesque, who I've been working with is here. He's a nice guy. I don't mind him.

"Hey, Stephanie."

"Hey," I tell him with a smile.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner," he said, cutting straight to the point. I've learned that he's like that. I can't help but find him attractive. Working so closely with him, it's hard not to fall for him. I've not yet fallen for him, but it could be coming, I could be falling.

"I'd love to."

"Great, pick you up tomorrow at 8?"

"I'll see you there."

That night, I fell asleep, but when I woke up, there he was again, sitting on my bed. I sighed and he looked at me.

"Go away," I tell him.

"No."

"Why not?"

"You need me."

It was only then I realized what I'd been denying all along.

Chris is my guardian angel.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews for this. I know the concept is strange and I'm kind of playing it as I go so I hope you continue to enjoy it and please, please, please review, thanks. :)

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"You're not a ghost, are you?"

"No, I'm not a ghost," he told me. I don't know if that made me more upset or not. If he was a ghost, maybe I could have him exorcised. I could go get some sort of witch doctor or ghost hunter and they could just make him disappear. Throw some salt at him, let him go back where he came from. But if he said he wasn't a ghost, did that really mean he wasn't? Would he trick me? But did ghosts even really talk? I wasn't psychic, I'd never predicted the future, not once so it couldn't be that.

"Do I have a brain tumor?" I asked because maybe I was dying and just didn't know it and I was hallucinating.

"No."

"So you're," I was almost too afraid to confirm the truth. I may have it all worked out in my head, but I didn't want to say it aloud because then it made it real. It's like if you don't say something, then it's not real. "You're…a…well, you're a guardian angel, aren't you?"

"Hit it right on the nose," he told me.

"Okay, I must be dreaming or something."

"Pinch yourself, see." He almost sounded amused. I'd never spoken to him before, not like this. If I ever did, it was confrontational. I reached under the covers and pinched my leg. It hurt, damn it, it hurt. I winced and he seemed to smile at me. "So?"

"So I'm not dreaming," I tell him. "So you're a guardian angel then…why can I see you? Why have I always seen you?"

He sighs and looked out the window. It's strange. He looks solid, but there's a transparency to him as well, like he shimmers or something. I almost want to reach out and touch him, just to see if I can. He's sitting on the bed, but maybe he's actually just hovering over the bed and he can't really sit at all, but doesn't want to freak me out. As if the appearance of some other worldly being wasn't going to freak me out anyways.

"Because sometimes people can see us. Some people can see their guardian angel, some can see ghosts, some can see…whatever. You can see me. Some people are just more sensitive to it. I admit, I haven't done a good job at hiding."

"That's for damn sure," I muttered. He actually laughed. My head shot up to look at him. He could laugh. Did he have emotions? "So why did you just show up one day? I mean, I was sitting there, in my bedroom, like seven years old, playing with my dolls and there you were in the corner, why did you show up?"

"I've been around since you were born, Stephanie," he told me. "I was _there_ when you were born. You just never noticed me until you were seven. I guess you were kind of floating off in your own world until then, but I've always been there."

"Oh my God, I can't believe I'm talking to someone who thinks he's my guardian angel," I cover my face. Here is this guy, if he is even a guy, saying he's my guardian angel. I must be going crazy. These past however many years has been my slow descent into madness and I've finally arrived. The men in the white coats will kindly be taking me away any time now.

"I don't think I am, I am," he said. "I just needed you to recognize that."

"Why? You can't talk to me unless I know what you are?" I asked glibly. I was crazy, so very, very crazy.

"No, because you were too stubborn to realize before and why would I want to talk with a stubborn person?"

"Oh great, so not only am I a psycho who can see their supposed guardian angel, but I get the most sarcastic one in the world," I tell him. He just snickers at that. So for all those folks wondering, yes, angels snicker and act like smug bastards some of the time.

"I'm not sarcastic, I'm just truthful," he tells me.

"Sure," I say. "I don't know what to think right now. Why now? Why are you back now? You said I need you, but what do I need you for?"

"To protect you, that's my job."

"Protect me from what?"

"The dangers of the world. Look, I know what's going to happen to you before it happens…and no, don't ask me to tell you what's going to happen to you, I'm not allowed, boss's orders. I just know and until the day you die, I will be here to protect you."

"And on the day I die, what, you finally just say, see you, wouldn't want to be you?" I ask him.

"That's the day I take you with me," he tells me and he's so serious in that moment I'm frightened a little bit. What if that's what he's really here for? What if I'm dead or dying and I don't know it. I look around, as if I'm going to see my dead body and come to the awful "end of the movie" revelation that I'm already dead and I'm a spirit right now and he's come to take me with him. Then I remember that I pinched myself and it hurt. When I think of death, it's not supposed to hurt.

"Um, is it a long way off?" I ask tentatively.

He smiles gently, "I can't tell you."

"That's not very reassuring."

"Sorry," he says and he sounds genuinely apologetic. He doesn't seem too pressed about my physical condition so I'm going to guess I have a lot of time left. Or at lease I hope so.

"So you protect me, but you haven't, I mean, I don't think I've needed protecting."

"I don't interfere with the little things," he tells me, "you know, broken hearts, broken bones, broken anything. I just help with the big things, the life-threatening things."

"So why do people get murdered then? If everyone, theoretically, has a guardian angel, why do bad things happen?"

"I can't tell you exactly, but there's a plan. I know, you don't think it's a great answer, but it's the only answer I can give you. We're all meant to play our part."

"Okay, I won't pry then." I don't want to get him in trouble with his superiors. Does he even have them? Oh, he must, God and all that. I've never been religious nor has my family, but I guess it's time to start revising that. I wonder if this means I have to go to church.

"So I need you, something big is coming then?"

"I didn't say that."

"I've never needed help before so something must be up."

"No, I'm here, like always. I'm just saying you need me because you do need me, I'm your protector, always."

"I've never needed you though, so why do I still see you? If I don't need you, can't you just fade?"

"You just see me, Stephanie, that's all there is to it, you see me. Some people can't, you can."

"How would you help me anyways? You can like, touch things?"

"You ask too many questions," he tells me and I roll my eyes. If he is my guardian angel then I'm going to ask questions.

"You've been watching me forever, you say, how do I know that? You know, in fact, how do I know you're actually a guardian angel? Maybe you are a ghost or something and like, when someone in your family dies, don't they say, oh they become your guardian angel? So shouldn't like, my grandpa be my angel or something, huh? Answer me that."

"If I were capable of getting headaches, you would be giving me one right now," he tells me. He doesn't move though, just sits there. "One question at a time."

"Okay, how do I know you're a guardian angel if you've never protected me once in my life," I'll start with that. I want to know if he is for real.

"You were three years old," he starts, turning to look at me. I feel as if I can look straight through him. His eyes are so piercing though and it's like if I just look into them, I can see what he's saying. It's an odd feeling. He's an odd person.

"Okay…"

"You had gone on a hike in the woods with your dad and Shane. It was the wintertime, you were pretty bundled up. Your dad was carrying you and Shane was up ahead a little bit, looking at something or another. You were squirming in your dad's arms and so he put you down. You took his hand, but Shane was running up ahead. He told you to stay right there while he went and got your brother. You didn't stay right there. You started to wander off the path and you got lost. You were a fast kid, you've always been speeding off somewhere, I think that's why you ignored me in college, you had too much to do. Anyways, you got really far out and you got so disoriented and it started to snow of all things. You were so scared. Everyone was looking for you, but you were so small and so afraid you couldn't hear anyone because you were crying and you didn't know directions. Do you remember what happened?"

I thought back to that day. I remembered it from the numerous stories I'd been told about, how my family was so worried, how my father never would've forgiven himself had anything happened to me, how Shane had started crying too, thinking I was lost. They'd found me though, of course, since I was sitting here. Yes, they'd found me sitting in a tree of all things, huddled up. They'd spotted my red coat and my father told me he ran through me, getting cuts from thorny bushes, but not caring about that as he squeezed the life out of me.

"They found me in a tree."

"I coaxed you," he said. "It was cold, you were so small, with that little bowl cut of your getting soaked under your cap. You were in a red coat, I knew they'd see you. I whispered to you that morning to pick the red coat. You listened to me back then. I think your parents caught you talking to someone, but they just thought it was your imaginary friend. I waved to you and--"

"You were the blond man," I whispered. I remembered now. Oh God, it was hazy, but I remembered. I could remember shivering and he'd been there, a man, just standing there, no, no, he was crouching. He was crouching next to a tree and he was waving me over. I was hesitant, but I knew him, yes, he'd looked familiar so I'd walked over and he'd told me to get in the tree, the tree would be warm. So I did and I sat there and he sat with me. "You were there."

"Yes, I was there," Chris told me. "Like I said, I've always been there."

My eyes teared up and looked away. "So you have saved me."

"Yeah. As for your other question, everyone has a guardian angel. That doesn't change, they don't change. There's no transfer program, we're never demoted. We're your guardian angel for life, no switches."

"Okay," I say. I just…I can't think right now. He was there, he saved me, he was really the one to save me. He really was my guardian angel. He talked to me then. "Did you talk to me more when I was little, before I could remember?"

"Yes," he tells me. "You were a little more receptive then. When you were crying when you were a baby and your parents would not come get you because they wanted you to learn to quiet down on your own, I spoke to you."

"This is unreal, I mean, I know you've been around forever, but I guess. Now you're here, you want to help me."

"I've always wanted to help you, but you've never wanted my help."

"How can you help me now?"

"Just listen to me," he shrugs. "Just listen to your own gut. You don't even _have_ to talk to me. I don't get lonely or anything, I'm not capable of being lonely so it's no matter to me, but sometimes, you have to just trust yourself, but know that I will be here to protect you."

"Thanks, I think," I laugh. He smiles at that and there's a nice repertoire here now, now that I'm not being completely hostile to his presence. "Have you ever…were you alive once, like a long time ago?"

He looked out the window and he seemed to shimmer again. There was a light surrounding him, that's what I realized. Of course there was a light surrounding him, he was an angel. He looked like one too, now that I thought about it. Whenever you see old paintings of angels, they were always these beautiful men, long, flowing hair, clear eyes, wonderful complexion. Wait, maybe those paintings were real, maybe those people, those artists had seen their own guardian angels? Oh man, this was making _way_ too much sense now. He wasn't in the long, flowing robes though. He was dressed like a person, maybe he had died right before I was born, or maybe the second I was born. That would make sense, to have someone's guardian angel be someone that died at the exact moment you were born, talk about cyclical. Maybe then I'd be someone's guardian angel someday.

"I've never been alive," he answers.

"Never? Not even like, back in the Egyptian times?"

"No, not even back then, not even at the dawn of man."

"As an angel, shouldn't you believe that like, God created the world in 7 days?"

"People have a lot of misconceptions about religion."

"Oh." I guess I was kind of hoping for the secret to life here.

"God creates and angel for every person. No angel is ever alive. We're created specifically for that person. I was created specifically for you."

"Just for me?"

"Yes, just for you."

"Can I, can I touch you?" I ask, leaning forward a little bit.

"Sure, go ahead," he tells me. I reach my hand out slowly, like he'll disappear, but he hasn't disappeared since I was born so I guess now isn't going to be the one time he does. I reach out and he looks so solid and shimmery. I reach for his shoulder and…

Nothing, my hand goes right through him.

My hand jumps back and he laughs at me, "You really thought I was solid, didn't you?"

"Shut up."

"Sorry, angel humor," he said. "I'm not solid. I work through my words most of the time. I just…I don't let you lead yourself into danger. So do you promise to start listening to me now? Or are you going to try to ignore me again?"

There's just no way I could ignore him now. I sigh and look down. "You're never leaving me, are you?"

"Not a chance."

"You're here to protect me."

"I'll always be here to protect you."

"Well, I guess I have a guardian angel then."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews for this crazy story. I'm glad it's not too confusing and I hope you stick with it and please continue to leave reviews, I love them! :)

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Part of me still thought there was something wrong with my brain. I know, I had a conversation with Chris, but maybe that conversation was all in my head. Maybe I was going crazy. I fell asleep that night thinking that I was absolutely crazy and when I woke up and he was there, I thought I had gone just a little crazier, but if he had been there since I was seven, how could I really argue with myself over what I was seeing. The one thing that really got me though was the fact that now that he knew I believed he wouldn't shut up.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked me as he sat there in the chair. And when I say sat there, I don't think he really sits, he just kind of hovers. He doesn't _need_ to sit, he's an angel, they don't need to sit.

"Do you watch me sleep?" I ask him. It's weird to think that as I'm sleeping he'll just sit there, watching me all night long. There's a fine line between guardian angel and creepy stalker ghost thing.

"I don't necessarily watch you."

"Do you like go to heaven and get your next day assignments?"

He chuckles at that and I wonder just _what_ he can feel, if anything. He said he doesn't get lonely and I hope he doesn't because I've done a fairly good job ignoring him for the past dozen or so years, maybe more. But he laughs at things I say and he obviously feels concern because he's a guardian angel and he wants me to be safe, but what else can he feel? Does he really find me amusing or is he just putting up a pretense, acting for me so I don't get creeped out if all he does is stare at me?

"No, I don't go to heaven, we've got ways of communicating," he tells me.

"Do you feel at all?" I have to ask, it's just too big a mystery for me not to ask. "Because you just laughed at what I said, do you feel like that's humorous or do you just laugh because you know it's the appropriate response?"

"I know happy things," he tells me thoughtfully. Then he pauses for a moment. "I don't have all the understanding in the world, Stephanie. I'm an angel, I'm not God. I don't necessarily get the intricacies of why I'm here or how I was made or any of that. I don't feel things like you feel things. I don't feel _everything_. I don't feel sadness or remorse or guilt. I can sense them in others, but I can't feel them. The happy things, yes, I can be amused or happy."

"You know what that sounds like?"

"What?" he asks curiously. I think he's surprised to see that I may know something he doesn't.

"It sounds like you can only feel good and not evil, which makes sense, what with heaven and hell, I'm assuming there is a hell, yes?"

He nods, "There is a hell, yes."

"Is my dad going there?"

He laughs louder at that. "I don't know, that's not up for me to know. Hell is pretty much reserved for the truly evil. It's not for your everyday sinner; God is a lot more forgiving than that. It doesn't matter if you swore or lied or whatever, it's the big stuff that gets you sent down to the flames."

"Like murder?"

"Again, it's on a God-to-person basis."

"Okay, I get it, too many questions," I sigh. "Hey, do you like…watch me when I'm showering and stuff? Because that's super creepy, you know. I mean, I get that you're my angel or whatever, but I mean, I do get _some_ privacy, right?"

"I'm not going to sit there and watch you, no, but I'm around. I can't have you falling down in the shower and hitting your head. It would defeat my purpose if I suddenly decided to be off the clock for five minutes. Leaving you alone like that, not knowing what's going on…not a good thing in my profession."

"Can you close your eyes?" I ask. "Just you know…close them."

"I'll try," he tells me and I'm a little grateful for that. I can't believe I'm talking to my guardian angel. If anyone I worked with knew about this, they'd tell my father and he'd have the men in the white van come and take me away faster than I could say World Wrestling Federation. I just have to be careful when I talk to Chris.

I go about getting ready for my day, Chris never far behind. He does follow me into the bathroom, but he does make the conscious effort to close his eyes. I've seen him in my bathroom before, but I always ignored him and figured he went away for that part. Though he closes his eyes, I get the strange feeling that he can still see me even with them closed. He doesn't tell me outright though so at least I think that my dignity is still intact.

Chris isn't old, which makes it even worse. When I was younger, he was just older, but he never looked years and years older than me. I don't want to say he's aged because I'm not sure an angel ages, per se, it just feels like his age is always kind of hovering around what mine is, but never quite there. Maybe it's a little bit of magic or religious magic or something. Right now, he looks to be in his late twenties, early thirties, there's just no way to pinpoint it. He's a good-looking angel as I guess they all are because they're _angels_, but it's just having this guy here watching you.

"Do you watch me having sex!" I ask him after I get dressed.

He's incapable of blushing, I've decided, because surely anyone would blush at what I just blurted out almost against my will. I'm not promiscuous, but I'm not a virgin either and if he watches me having sex, I'll be so embarrassed. I don't want to think of a guy with me while Chris sits in the corner and judges. And what about God? Oh, Chris must be looking down on me because wasn't there some passage in the Bible about not having premarital sex? So he must think me awful for breaking one of the rules.

"No, Steph, I talk with whoever your with's guardian angel," he tells me sarcastically. "It doesn't matter, I don't judge."

"But isn't it against like the law of God?"

"Again, people have a lot of misconceptions about God. He has a lot of stuff to worry about. The fact that you're having sex isn't going to really register on his God-o-meter."

"Well, okay, but that's another area where…it'd be better if you closed your eyes."

"Okay," he says, but I'm pretty confident he doesn't really care what I say and he'll go on doing what he's been doing. It's worked so far, he probably thinks, so why change a good thing? Oh well, he's the one in charge, kind of. Actually, I'm not so sure which one of us is in charge anymore. He told me to follow my gut, but now he's really here and involved and how can I not ask him for advice, he supposedly knows what's going to happen to me before it happens.

I push these thoughts away and focus on getting myself to work. I've got a lot to do today and I want to get an early start. By the time I get there, a lot of the wrestlers have already arrived. It's normal to get in early on a TV day and I'm remorseful that I wasn't there earlier. The show is actually earlier tonight, since we're on the West Coast. It starts at six so I have to work twice as fast. I think I have a scene later, which will cut into my time and I'm already biting my thumbnail as I think about it. I finally sit down and get to looking over things when the door swings open.

"Hey, Paul," I tell him.

"Hey, Steph, I just wanted to make sure we were on for tonight at 8, right after the show," he said.

I'd completely forgotten. In all the fuss over Chris and I, I'd completely forgotten I'd made a date with Paul. But it's not like Chris is stopping me or anything. He's just watching the scene. I glance over at him and he's actually stood up and he's looking at Paul and assessing him. My eyes widen a little as Chris does this, but of course, Paul can't see or feel any of this. I don't think you can feel Chris like some people claim to feel ghosts. When my hand went through him the night before, I just felt the whoosh of air from my hand passing through it, nothing cool or warm or anything. No breeze from him.

"Stephanie, you okay?" Paul asks me.

"Oh yeah, of course, I'm fine," I laugh nervously. "I'd love to go out with you tonight. Just find me after the show and we'll go and everything will be great."

I don't even know what I'm saying. "Great, you look really beautiful tonight by the way. Are you going to change for our scenes, it'd be a shame to, really, because you look gorgeous."

"Yeah, I'm going to," I say, looking down at my plain clothes. They want me a little dolled up for my part. I'm supposed to look way different now that I'm "married" to Paul than I did when I was "engaged" to Andrew. "Thanks for thinking I look beautiful," I say as an afterthought and then add one more afterthought, "is this okay for going out?"

"Yeah, you look great, I didn't want to do fancy, unless you like fancy?"

"I'm not married to it," I tell him and he laughs at me.

"Great, then I'll see you then."

"I will see you then, actually, I'll see you before that because we're working," I remind him and he nods and smiles, glad that we're working together. Yes, I can see myself falling for him so easily. He's not the best-looking of men, I know that, but he has this charm about him that I can't quite put my finger on.

"I look forward to that, I'll see you in a bit."

"You will," I tell him flirtatiously. He closes the door and Chris goes back and sits or hovers or whatever on the couch, he's there. I go back to my work.

"You like that guy?"

I look up at Chris, "I do, why? Do you _not_ like him?"

"No opinion," Chris shrugs.

"When you have a bad person around, do you react negatively to them?" I ask.

"Yes, yes, I do. I know bad when I see it. You might not know, but I know."

"What do you see in Paul?" I wonder. Is that why Chris was so adamant about talking to me? Is Paul the one he's supposed to be protecting me against? He's the only change that's happened in recent weeks. Him asking me out was a little bit of a surprise to me, but Chris supposedly knows things before they happen. Is Paul going to lead me to harm? Is that why Chris was scrutinizing him?

"I see a guy," Chris answers, giving me nothing.

"What's his guardian angel like?" I ask, thinking maybe if I back off the subject a little I can return to it and get answers.

"I didn't get a real chance to talk to him, looked fine, looked like any other guardian angel I've met."

"Must be pretty crowded around here with angels," I say weakly. God, I want to know if Paul is the bad guy! But wouldn't Chris have spoken up, danced around or signaled me not to go out with him? If he's my guardian angel, you'd think that he would do something to inform me whether or not this was the right choice.

"I can't tell you what you want to know."

"What?"

"Your face says it all, you're wondering about Paul. I was just looking at him, I wasn't passing judgment on him or anything, I was just looking at him."

"And the verdict?" I ask. "What did you think?"

"He's big…"

"Big?"

"He's a big guy."

"Yeah, I realize that," I respond with exasperation. _That's_ what he's going to give me? That Paul is big, something I can see with my own eyes. Chris can see the future, see _my_ future and he tells me Paul is big?

"Good. We're on the same page."

"It's him, isn't it? It's him, he's the one that I have to watch out for, he's the one I'm going to need you for. Oh my God, what's he going to do to me? Is he going to do something to me? Chris, you have to tell me, what's he going to do to me!"

Chris is over by my side before I can even think. How the hell did he do that? Can angels just beam themselves place? He kneels next to me and though he can't touch me, I can feel his presence. "Stephanie, look at me."

I look at him and I must appear like a wreck. I bite my lip to cover for my nerves, but it must make me seem even more nervous. Chris looks at me like he's seen this scene so many times before. "You know what this reminds me of?"

"What?"

"When you were little and you couldn't sleep. You must've been around two. You'd just gotten your first real bed and it freaked you out for some reason. I think Shane told you there would be monsters under your bed or something and without the safety of your crib and its bars, you felt like you were going to get eaten. I would stay there next to you on the floor and you'd ask pathetically if there were monsters and I would tell you that if there were, I would get them and I would make sure they didn't hurt you. You'd just keep talking though, a low hushed voice and you'd be tired and by the end, you would just be mumbling something so softly it was nearly incoherent."

"And I fell asleep?"

"Every time. Until one night, you just fell asleep so my job was done for then. Of course, then Shane let you watch a scary movie and the whole process started over again."

"He was so mean to me. You should've protected me from him," I joke.

"Shane's harmless," Chris tells me and I know that already.

"So you're here to tell me no monsters are going to come and eat me?"

"I promise, Steph, no monsters are going to hurt you."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Once again, thank you all SO much for the reviews. I really like writing this strange, strange story and I'm glad people are reading it and not questioning my sanity (too much :P). Hope you enjoy this chapter too and please leave a review. :)

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I'm still not convinced that Paul isn't bad news. I know Chris was deflecting, but I'm still putting my receptors up because I don't really know what he meant when he was talking about Paul. I don't know much about him beyond our working relationship and his wrestling history. I guess I just never made it a point. I look at wrestling at this job, is it my life, well, I try not to make it be my life because I've seen what it's done to my father and I don't want to end up like that. Still, it's in my blood, wrestling is, and I do love it. Still, I just didn't know Paul and maybe that's why Chris is hovering.

I sometimes wonder if it's all leading up to a point. Like maybe I've been able to see Chris all this time because there's going to be one catastrophic event and he's been building me up to that. He says he's helped me and been with me when I was still receptive to him. He would stay with me when I thought there were monsters under the bed and he helped me overcome that fear. Maybe he's been working to whatever is going to happen to me, _if_ something happens to me. He says he's watching out, but watching out for what? Paul? I'm terrified that it's Paul and I'll be alone and no words can come from Chris to save me.

Still, I can't live my life in fear. There's no sense in doing that and I'm not going to stop living because of it. You can't be a slave to your fear and I'm not about to stop now. That's probably why I'm checking myself out in the mirror, looking at myself from all angles. I make sure I didn't spill food on my shirt and I look pretty good. My hair is curled and ugly from having it done for the show, but I've pulled it down and tried to comb it out and now it's just a mass of waviness. I can live with that, it gives me a little drama.

"You look nice."

"Thanks," I say unconsciously responding to the compliment. "Do you think he'll like it? Oh wait, you probably can't feel anything like that, right?"

"Like what?" he asked.

"Like...love I guess," I told him. I still don't know exactly what he can feel or what he can't feel, but surely he can't really feel love. Angels don't fall in love, or at least I don't think he would. I guess he could, but if he's by my side all the time, would that leave him time for a relationship? What am I saying, he's a guardian angel, he probably doesn't even think about these things.

"Well, I care about you, we don't really feel love I guess, but we care, it's a pleasant feeling," he tells me, but there's no emotion behind his words.

"That's kind of sad," I respond, looking over at him, "because love is so much more than pleasant."

"Because you'd know," Chris said and I thought I heard the distinct sound of scoffing so I looked over at him.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm just saying you've never been in love."

"I have _too_ been in love."

"No, you haven't."

"How would you know?" I asked. "If you can't feel love, how in the hell...sorry, how would you know what love is?"

"I know what love is," Chris told me. "I know what it feels like and stuff because it's just inside me, I mean, come on, Stephanie, I'm an angel, our whole purpose is to be created from God's love, so I'd think I would know what it is even if I can't actively feel it."

"Oh, well...I have been in love."

"No, you haven't."

"Will I be?" I asked, wondering if he would tell me.

"Steph, I can't exactly tell everything that happens, you know. I mean, I think I gave you the wrong idea about how I see the future. I don't like have a movie of your life playing inside my head and I can fast forward and say what you'll be doing 60 years from now."

"60 years from now, that means I have to live 60 years from now, that's reassuring," I say as I smooth an invisible wrinkle from my shirt. He looks at me, but doesn't say anything. I'm grasping at straws I guess, "Okay, go ahead with your spiel."

"All I'm saying is I get...feelings, you know what I mean, what I do is mostly based on observation."

"So you really can't see my future."

"I can know, it's complicated, you would never understand."

"Fine," I don't really care anyways. As long as he knows something's going to happen, that's enough for me. "I have been in love though."

"No, you haven't," he tells me and I'm starting to get a little pissed off. I know he can't read my mind so how does he know I haven't been in love? How can he even possibly know if he can't feel love himself? He's probably just trying to get a rise out of me. I've learned since I've started acknowledging him that he likes to make me mad. You'd think someone who was supposed to protect me wouldn't try to antagonize me.

"Yes, I _have_."

"With who?"

"Toby," I answer. Toby was my first college boyfriend and the guy I lost my virginity to. He'd been an art major at my school and he was so laid back and opposite from me. We'd gotten along on that basis alone. Our lives just meshed well together. It only ended because he'd wanted to become a tattoo artist and had the opportunity to apprentice in Japan and he'd taken it and I'd been devastated.

"You did not love Toby," he said having the audacity to laugh at me.

"How can you even say that? If he came back today and told me he loved me and wanted to marry me, then I would absolutely marry him. I wouldn't even hesitate," I say without even thinking, but it could be true. I don't know, Chris is just making me so mad with these claims that I didn't love someone that I know I loved.

"Stephanie, you didn't love him, I mean, you did, I guess, but it was such a childish love. You two were so annoying, constantly talking about feelings and how he was going to get a tattoo on every one of your anniversaries, what did he say it was going to be of? Oh yeah, a flower petal every year and then when you guys were old he'd have a full flower in bloom because you'd led a full life."

"I thought it was a beautiful sentiment."

"Stephanie, come on, you guys were not in love, you _thought_ you were in love, but look at yourself right now, look at what you've become. You are not that same girl who wanted someone so radically different from her. I'm not saying that you're completely different or you need someone who is your carbon copy, but someone a little less...flighty would be good. You just wanted someone that wasn't like you, rebellion."

"I was not rebelling."

"Sure you were," Chris told me. "Trust me, when you fall in love, really fall in love, you'll know it."

"I think I have."

"Okay, think what you want then," he said, giving in to me. I was probably acting like a stupid kid and that's why he's giving in, but I know how I felt. I know my own self, but I hate that Chris also knows about me, maybe even more than I do because he remembers what I don't, he's seen things I haven't or I've ignored. He knows me, he's known me since I was born.

"Chris?"

"What?"

"Were you there before I was born?" I turn to him.

"Not really," he answers and says no more so I don't press. I think that's one of those things I'm not going to understand, maybe not ever.

There was a knock on my office door and I turned to look at it. I left the bathroom where I'd been meticulously looking over my appearance Chris followed me. I'd been getting accustomed to his eyes on me again, but they weren't so scary this time around. I took a deep breath and then opened the door to Paul's smiling face. I resisted the urge to look over at Chris's reaction. I don't think Paul would get why I was looking at thin air.

"Hey," he says, then tells me, "You look great."

"Thanks," I think I'm beaming at him. I hope I'm not coming off as eager. I like Paul, he's a nice guy, but I don't know too much about him, I mean, I do, but I don't know everything about him, plus, if I seem to eager, he may try to do something to me, something that Chris has warned me about.

"You ready?"

"Yeah, I am," I tell him, grabbing my things. He takes them from me and I smile at him again. I follow him out and Chris has decided to walk on my right side. If only he were some sort of solid I could nudge him away, but even if I did, I'd be nudging air.

Paul ends up taking me to a nice, but casual restaurant. We get a table and sit down and that's when Chris decides he's going to stay right next to Paul. I glare at him, but he just shrugs and looks at me, like he's daring me to say something to him. I don't take the bait and smile over my menu at Paul. Chris looks like he's talking to someone, but I can't hear what he's saying. I decide quickly what I want and then put my menu down and look at Paul.

"So...work's been fun, huh?" I say.

"Yeah, I love our storyline," Paul tells me enthusiastically. "It's just grabbing in the fans, you know. I just can't help but love it. Being around you is a pretty good part of it too, probably my favorite part actually."

My cheeks burn a little and Chris is rolling his eyes so hard I'm afraid they might pop out. Maybe he can actually pop them out. That would be creepy. "But you're the title holder."

"Still, you're better than the title," he says charmingly.

My cheeks burn a little more. Chris is gagging now. "Hey, you know, when he was in middle school, his nickname was Pinocchio? Apparently Levi, his angel, told me and he would get completely upset about it and go home and cry."

I try to hold my laughter and look at Paul. "Thank you, I don't think I'm that great." I couldn't think of anything else to say. I'm picturing Paul crying and I've realized that Chris is _evil_ because it's like he's trying to make me laugh.

"You're amazing," he told me and he seems sincere. How can someone who says things like that sincerely be someone who is going to hurt me? But I guess it takes all kinds of people to hurt others so I can't judge by pretty words or sentiments. "I can't believe nobody's snatched you up yet."

"Snatched you up?" Chris said, looking at Paul. "Stephanie, really, this is what you go for, really?"

I couldn't believe Chris's audacity. If he weren't an angel, I would say he was jealous, but I think he really just gets a kick out of making fun of people. Some angel I got. I wonder if other people's angels are so sarcastic and moody. I think for a moment and almost groan, I just described myself. Maybe our angels are meant to reflect ourselves. That's an eye-opener if I ever heard one. If Chris is just like me, I must come off awful to a lot of people.

"Well, I work a lot."

"I know you do, I see you."

"Yeah, that didn't sound creepy at all," Chris told me. It actually did sound kind of creepy to me as well. Was that a warning? Was Chris pointing that out as a warning to me?

"Well, yeah, you do," I said as the waiter came over to take our orders as a bus boy set down some bread with a pesto paste to put on top of it. I helped herself first and then Hunter took some, taking a bite and chewing thoughtfully. "So where did you grow up?"

"New Hampshire," he said after swallowing. His grin grew wide, "Born and raised."

Chris looked over at him and started laughing. "Stephanie, he has a piece of basil stuck in his teeth!"

I looked at Hunter's grin and sure enough, there was a huge piece of basil just sticking there, adding to the awkwardness of his smile. I bit my lip to keep from laughing, Chris's own laughs ensconcing me so much I can hardly even concentrate. "Um, you kind of...have something on your teeth," I point out to him, trying to be delicate.

"Oh geez," he said, rubbing at his teeth vigorously. He looks up again and flashes his teeth, "Better?"

"All gone," I tell him, thankful that I don't have to see it. "So New Hampshire, beautiful up there."

"I think so," he told her. "So what kind of music do you like?"

"I like all kinds really, I listen to all kinds," I tell him, Chris is just over there, just over his shoulder and he's talking again. I don't really know what he's saying, I can't really hear him and I strain to. Maybe he's talking with Paul's angel again, maybe Paul's angel will know something or feel something about Paul's future. Maybe something with me, maybe something bad.

"What's he saying?" I blurt out.

Chris turns to look at me, but more importantly, Paul is looking at me strangely. He looks over his shoulder to where I'm looking, but there's nobody there. "Steph?"

"Sorry," I tell him, looking around frantically. I spot the TV at the bar and quickly say, "I saw a show and it looked good and I was wondering what the character was saying. Stupid, huh?"

"No, not stupid," he said. "Is my conversation boring you?"

"No, no, no," I reassure him. "I'm sorry, I'm listening, what kind of music do you like?"

"Rock mostly," he answers.

Chris is laughing again. "I can't believe you just tried to talk to me. Is he that boring that you can't even talk to him for that long and you have to resort to talking to me in public, where anyone can see you talking to nothing?"

"Paul, I have to use the bathroom," I tell him, cutting him off from what he was talking about, which I have no idea what it was because Chris is distracting me. I don't wait for his answer before I stomp my way to the bathroom, checking the stalls and then heading into one. "What are you doing!"

"I'm just observing."

"What were you saying to his angel? I know that's who you were talking to."

"Actually, I was talking to someone else's angel."

"You were not!" I tell him, "I know you were, what were you talking about? Is he bad? Is Paul bad for me? Are we destined to be together or something?"

"Stephanie, calm down," he tells me. "Geez, we were just telling funny stories about you guys. Look, it's not up for me to decide who you date or who you don't date. If you feel comfortable with Paul, you'll go out with him more. My opinion doesn't matter, not that I have true opinions, I just call it like I see it basically."

"You don't like Paul."

"I tend to like people, it's kind of what an angel does, do I really need to dress in all white togas and play harps for you? I could put the halo on for you if you want."

"You can put your halo...this is no time for that, please, just don't be so distracting. If he's meant for me, then I guess I will know it, but I can't have you trying to influence me."

"Okay, I'm sorry, I will be the perfect little angel." I groaned at his lame joke as I went back to the table.

"Sorry about that, now where were we?"


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So glad people are liking this story and not thinking I'm insane or anything lol. I really, really enjoy writing it and can't wait to write where I want it to go. So please keep reviewing, I really enjoy hearing feedback for this story in particular since it's kind of weird. :)

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Paul takes my hand as we're walking into my hotel. He looks like he could crush my hand into dust if he wanted, leaving me with fingers full of bone dust, but his touch is actually very light, it's...refreshing. I don't even know if that's the right word for it, but it's just not something I was totally expecting. Even when he holds my hand on-screen, he kind of grips too tight and I think it's the adrenaline from the crowd and he gets so into it he can't even really help himself. But here, now, when we're alone (or as alone as I can be with Chris hovering around) it's different and he's different and I like the different him.

"Have you had fun?" he asked me lowly. I wasn't even aware his voice could get to that tone. He's usually so _on_ all the time.

"I have," I tell him truthfully. Paul has been something I wasn't expecting, both as a character I work with and as a man. I'm having a hard time believing that he could do something to me, but I know that looks are deceiving. Growing up in the wrestling business will do that. You think someone is going to be one thing and they turn out to be another. I've had my dad's associates or wrestlers hit on me when I was a teenager and not even like 19, where it could've been somewhat acceptable, no less creepy mind you, but more acceptable, but when I was 14 or 15. I ignored Chris for the most part then, but I wonder if he bristled or if he would've told me something if I didn't have the wherewithal to turn those sleazebags down.

"Great," he said and I look at him and he's smiling and then I find that I'm smiling too. Maybe he won't turn out to be this great guy, but for now, he is and I guess I should just ride that wave out to the finish and see where it leads me. "I've had a great time too," he adds, like he needs to reassure me that he had fun too, like I'm not a dullard.

We fall into silence once again and I glance over at Chris, but he's just hovering around, not saying anything. He hasn't said anything since I told him to shut up. I don't think I've hurt his feelings, but I'll make sure later. Wait, hurt his feelings? Chris's feelings can't be hurt. If they could, the years and years of utter silence I gave him would've stung, but he treats that with an indifference, like he knew all along I was going to ignore him and not speak to him. It brings me right back to thinking about how much he does know about the future.

He says that he can't actually see it or something to that affect, but maybe he's lying. Do angels actually lie? I don't know, maybe he'll tell me again it's one of those things about God that people misconstrue. But God allowing lying like that, from an angel? I just don't feel like God would ingrain that into something of his own creation. Hey, here's this perfect angel, made from my love, but let's give it the ability to lie through its teeth...or heavenly teeth...yeah, I don't think God is up there making lying angels. So I guess he doesn't really _see_ the future, maybe he just feels the future.

"Steph?"

I look up at Hunter, "Yeah?"

"Lost you for a minute there," he laughed. The elevator doors are open and I've just been standing here thinking about lying angels.

"Sorry, I was just thinking about something," I tell him vaguely. He doesn't know I need to be committed to the cukoo bin just yet.

"What were you thinking about?" I bet he thinks that I was thinking about him. I bet that's what he's thinking and he's probably getting a bigger ego now thinking I get so lost in thought over him. I'm not sure whether I want to foster that or reject that.

I go for rejection. "Just all the work that I have to catch up on."

He's properly deflated now, telling me, "Well you couldn't have had such a great time if you're thinking about work."

"No, I did, it's just you know, always catching up with me, stupid work," I try to recover so as not to really hurt his feelings. Although, if he's going to hurt me at some point in the future, I'm not going to feel too bad if I do hurt his feelings.

"Yeah, it can be a drag sometimes," he nods, "waking up and being completely sore, it's just not fun when you have those kinds of mornings, I mean, I know you don't have those kinds of mornings, not usually, but well, on my side of the fence, that's a bad morning for me."

"You're kind of cute when you ramble," I tell him and it's true. He's just not really a rambling kind of guy. "Well, here we are."

"Oh," Hunter says and he's disappointed. He better not think that I'm letting him inside this hotel room because I'm not the kind of girl. Besides, Chris is going to be there and I know he's technically not going to be watching or so I wouldn't do anything anyways knowing Chris is probably judging me, if he could judge me, that's probably another thing angels don't really do. Still, I have to be out with a guy for more than one date to sleep with them, no matter how much time we've spent together at work.

"I really did have a good time," I tell him, leaning back against the door. I place my hands behind me as he looms ahead of me. I can see Chris leaning against the wall behind him, still not saying a word, but he's watching, like always.

"Good, so do that mean that we can do this again at some point in the near future?" he wonders and he looks so hopeful that even if I wanted to turn him down, I think I wouldn't have been able to based on that look. I know a lot of people think Paul is ugly or unattractive, but he has this certain charm and he carries his looks well. I've never really been too hung up on looks anyways. Looks can only get a person so far and it can only take a relationship so far. There has to be more to the person than just the way they look.

"I absolutely think that could happen," I tell him with a grin. I may even let him kiss me. In fact, he's starting to lean in.

He places his large right hand right by my head as his own head tilts a little to the side. I don't really feel trapped or anything so that must be a good thing. Maybe if I felt trapped, that thing Chris was telling me about would kick in, the whole knowledge of what's bad for me. I don't, so I let him keep leaning in. He closes his eyes, but mine are still open and Chris is looking still. I reach out my left hand and make a circle with my index finger, letting him know wordlessly to turn around. I close my eyes at the last possible second as Paul's lips touch mine gently.

I'm not going to say he's a great kisser because he isn't. He's not the worst either, there's no gross slobbering or anything like that. I've kissed him before, but never like this, never in this way and he's almost too gentle, like he thinks I'm going to break under the pressure of his lips against mine. I won't and I wish he would kiss me with even one iota of the intensity he kisses me in the ring because when he kisses me there, I can definitely feel it. This is not the Paul I thought I would get when he kisses me. After all that though, it's still pleasant. It's a good kiss, it's not great, but it's not bad, it's just good.

He pulls away and I open my eyes and he's smirking. "So I guess this has to be good night?"

Did he really think after one kiss I'd be pulling him into my bedroom and ripping off his clothes? "I guess it is."

"I don't want the night to end."

Gagging, I hear gagging and it lets me know that Chris actually hasn't changed. "Well, haven't you ever heard, all good things must come to an end."

More gagging and if I could touch him, I'd strangle Chris right about now. "Does it have to?"

"Yes, it has to," I tell him, pushing him away lightly. He looks a little bummed, but moves away from me, giving me some breathing room. "We have work tomorrow, don't forget."

"How could I ever forget? It's what I do every day."

"I'll talk to you then, okay?"

"Okay," he says, leaning in and giving me another quick kiss. "I'll call you?"

"Yeah, you can call me, you have my number, right?"

"Already in my phone," he says, patting his back pocket like he's going to pluck it out right now and call me even though I'm standing right there. I wave and then enter my room, closing the door behind me. Chris walks right through it a moment later and I collapse on my bed with a deep sigh as I stare at the ceiling for a moment.

"I don't want the night to end," Chris says and then laughs. "Sometimes I just don't get people."

"Are you supposed to get people?" I ask him. "I mean, you're here for me, right, as my guardian angel so why would you get other people."

"Wow, someone thinks the world revolves around them," Chris tells me and suddenly he's next to me. "I just think that it was a cheesy line."

"Yeah, but I'm sure he meant it."

"If he meant that...I don't know, maybe he just really likes you or something," Chris said. It felt like he had more to say, but he didn't want to say it. I let it go this time. I get the distinct feeling at points that he doesn't want me asking him a million questions about every little thing. He's just such a curious being that I want to know what he knows, I want to see what he sees but I can't and it's very frustrating. I'm a person who has always gone out and gotten what I wanted and for me to have so many unanswered questions is not something I'm used to.

"You don't like him, huh?"

"I _like_ everyone. It's in my disposition."

"Yeah, but you don't like him for _me_, that's what I'm saying," I respond. "I like him though. I don't get a bad vibe from him."

"Good, I'm glad for that."

"I don't exactly see myself married to him or anything," I clarify. "I'm just saying that he's definitely someone I can see myself having a relationship with. I think my dad would like it since he likes Paul, you know, that's why he's getting this big push...Chris, do you know everything about what I do?"

"Yes," he said.

"So if I told you that a wrestler was going to do a German suplex followed by a Mexican surfboard, you would know what I'm talking about?"

"Yes, I'd know."

"Okay, but anyways, my dad really likes him, he tells me so all the time so I don't think that my dad would care if we were dating."

"Don't date him because your dad approves of him."

"That's not why and you know it. You know I don't really care what my dad thinks," I tell him. I'm my own person and I don't need my father's approval.

"That's not true. You've always cared what your dad thought of you. You've been trying to please him for years on end. You know, when you were little, you didn't even want to be in the business. You would draw yourself having other jobs. All the other kids were drawing pictures of fairy princesses and dogs and whatever and you were drawing pictures of yourself in other professions."

"I was a kid, I didn't know what I wanted."

"You didn't want wrestling. For the longest time, you wanted to be a baker, do you remember making cakes every weekend with your mom and telling her how you were going to open the world's best bakery and all the things you'd have on the menu? I think you mentioned that you wanted a 16 layer chocolate cake, the logistics of that are pretty scary."

I remember wanted to be a baker. I thought it would be so cool to just bake cakes and cupcakes all day long. Who wouldn't want a job like that? You could have all the cake you wanted! "I grew up though."

"Yeah, you grew up into what your father wanted. It's not a bad thing, Stephanie, to follow in your parent's footsteps, you haven't lost yourself, but don't even try and deny the fact that you want to please your father. Even during your rebellious stage, your Toby phase, you still wanted to please your father. Remember when Toby wanted you to become an art major instead of a boring business major?"

"I hate that you know everything about me," I pouted. It wasn't fair when he had the advantage of every moment of my life stored in his brain, even the moments that I couldn't myself remember. "It's an unfair advantage, you know."

"I'm your guardian angel, I'm _supposed_ to have the advantage in the relationship."

"Yeah, well you're not alive!" I tell him, sitting up and looking over at him. "You're not alive and you're just...you're just a thing and you come at me with all this stuff and yeah, sure you've seen what I've done and who I've been, but you're not in my head, Chris, you're not in my thoughts and I don't appreciate you coming up with evidence to support your own theories when you don't know a thing about what goes on in my head!"

"I know what's going on in your head right now," he says calmly and I'm infuriated. He knows everything but my thoughts and arguably, those are the most important things a person can have. There is no real privacy in the world, but our thoughts are our own and I don't like that he thinks he knows mine. I stand up and storm into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

He's an angel, he can go wherever he wants and as I'm sitting on the ledge of the sink, he's already in there. "Go away."

"You know I can't do that."

"I don't care, you can go in the other room, I'm not going to slip and crack my head open against the toilet or anything."

"I didn't think you were," he told me. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you upset like I did. You're right, I don't read your mind. Your thoughts are between you and the big guy upstairs and he does listen, you know. He's like, awesome like that. He doesn't have time to individually respond, but he does listen. He's everywhere, in everything. But me, I'm not in your brain. I just know what I see and Stephanie, I've seen you since you were a nanosecond old. I was there when you were born, when you said your first word, walked, first day of school, first kiss, everything. Yes, I have your memories inside me, but I didn't know that would hurt you. I don't...I don't have that wired in me, I guess. It's not that I want to hurt you, I would never want that, I _could_ never want that. I'm sorry."

"An angel apologizing, I've seen it all, you can take me away now."

"Yeah, checked the schedule, not time yet," he tells me and I smile a little. "You won't be cracking your head against the toilet."

"That's a relief."

"Look, I'll try to scale back the whole bringing up the past thing," he says, looking at me hopefully. "How's that sound?"

I look over at him and his eyes are piercing inside of me. The glow around him is what really gets me. It's just so...he's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my entire life. It's like gazing at heaven sitting right in front of me and he is a part of heaven. I feel bad for how childish I've been acting. "You don't have to stop telling me about my past. It's comforting to know that if I wanted, they are all inside of you. I like that. I like that my past lies within you. It makes my life relevant."

"Your life is relevant," he tells me gently.

I smile at him, "Chris, when I die, will you be in heaven with me or will you have to go away because your job is finished?"

"When I say I'll be with you always...I mean I'll be with you always."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, guys, you totally rock! I really love writing this story, it's quickly becoming one of my favorites and Chris isn't even alive lol. I hope everyone is enjoying it as well and I hope you enjoy the chapter and reviews are definitely wanted and hoped for, even if it's just a few words, they help me to want to write more! Anyways, I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. :)

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I wish I could tell Chris to tell me what's going to happen in my future. I know that technically he "works" for me, if that's the correct word. Well, I guess he actually works for God so he doesn't really _work_ for me, but he helps me and he follows me around so I'm kind of like a boss for him, middle management maybe. God's obviously the big boss, but I can be a minor boss, right? Why am I even thinking this? I think I'm still trying to wrap my mind around Chris's involvement in my life.

"Chris?" He's been watching me work. I've learned to be okay with his gaze because it's not really like a gaze, it's just like…I wish I knew how to explain it actually. It's like he's just there and his eyes are like my own eyes watching me. It's like I know gaze because it feels like my on gaze. That makes no sense to me when I say it out loud, but suffice it to say that his gaze doesn't bother me, not any more.

"Yes?" he asks, but he has a tone to his voice that tells me he knew I was going to ask him that all along.

"Paul asked me out again," I tell him, like he wasn't there to see it. I'm acting conversational with him, like he's a friend I just ran into and I'm relaying the events of my day.

"I know," he tells me and of course he does, he was there, he saw it all happen.

"Are you sure you can't tell me what's going to happen in my future?" I decide to go with the nice and easy approach, hoping that because I'm doing it that way, he might tell me what I want to hear.

"I'm pretty sure a person isn't supposed to know their own future, no."

"What would it hurt, just this once?"

"If I tell you what's going to happen, you're going to try and change it, I know you, Stephanie. I've been around you long enough to know that you want to take control of any situation that you're in. If I tell you what's going on, what might happen as I don't know the full details, you are going to try and change your own future, which could end up hurting you even more."

"How could it hurt me even more?"

"Because in order to avoid whatever it is you need to avoid you're going to have to change something and that could cause a ripple effect. I'm not going to let that happen. Stop worrying, I won't let anything happen to you."

He says it in such a way that I have to believe him. It's very curious the way he changes tone. I suspect it's a tone he's used on me on countless occasions that I have forgotten, yet, they still bring a rise of warmth into me. "I know you wouldn't, not until it's time."

"Not until it's time," he echoes.

"Which is very, very far down the road."

"Very far down the road," he echoes again and I know he's trying to sound like he's just repeating what I'm saying, but I can tell that he means what he says and that I'm not going any place for a while.

"Well, back to the issue at hand, Paul has asked me out again."

"Yes, he has and you've already made up your mind on what you want to do with that situation so why don't you go tell him that you're going to go out with him again so he can commence with coming up with even more boring topics of conversation."

"He wasn't boring," I protest.

"Stephanie, the man talked for 35 minutes, 12 seconds, and 36 milliseconds about body building. Now, I'm not exactly well-versed in everything, but from what I know of that particular activity, it is quite boring."

"It wasn't boring," I tell him, but he can read me like a book, I know he can. It was pretty boring. I never knew Paul had such an interest in bodybuilding, but I should have figured. I'm not trying to say anything against Joanie or anything, but well, she was a type and I guess that he is a type as well and I'm not getting into this anymore, he just likes bodybuilding.

"You were bored."

"Well, even if I was," I tell him, "this will be our second date so it's going to be different."

"How is it going to be different?" he asks me. "Is he going to talk about the World's Strongest Man competitions?"

I laugh. "Are all guardian angels as sarcastic and downright _mean_ as you are? Are you sure you work for the guy up there?" I ask, pointing towards the ceiling. "Because I'm starting to think you actually work for the guy down there." I point to the floor this time.

"You can rest assured, I'm not Mephistopheles in disguise or anything," he tells me. "And as for guardian angels, we're like people, we vary. I have to imagine God gets a little bored making the same thing over and over again so he mixed it up with us just like people."

"I can't imagine God getting bored."

"Well not bored in the way you think of bored, just, well, I mean, would you want everyone to be exactly the same? No, so why should angels all be exactly the same."

"So there are others like you out there, other angels who like to antagonize?"

"Stephanie, I'm only speaking the truth. I mean, I remember everything about the date, every word he said. I could recite all 35 minutes, 12 seconds, and 36 milliseconds of it. In fact, my favorite part was when he said that the self-tanner really helped to accentuate the muscles and that's why they tend to wear a lot of it and that they have personal tanner people who rub it all over these guys."

"Chris," I giggle. "Shut up, he was just explaining the rules to me."

"Oh, of course, the rules. I just imagine him sitting in his house, videotapes filled with competitions, holding a bottle of self-tanner in one hand and a little pennant in the other, waving it around and cheering the guys on. Maybe he does this at the actual competitions, I don't know."

"You're so mean!" I tell him, but I'm laughing because I can't help but think it's funny. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I would say that you were jealous of him. I mean, I know you're not because you're an angel and you're not human and everything, but if you were alive, I would tell you that you're jealous."

"I'm incapable of feeling jealousy," he shrugs. "And even if I did, I don't think I'd be envious of him."

"Why not? And what exactly do you feel jealousy is?"

"It's just wanting something that you can't have or don't have, right?" he says and I nod. "I just don't think I'd be envious of him for anything. He's just…he seems like a very boring guy. I talked with his angel, Clyde, and he just had nothing but boring things to say, said his life was nothing exciting, not like he makes it out to be."

"Do you think my life has been exciting?"

"You're very exciting," he tells me kindly and kindness is definitely something he knows.

"If you were alive, you could be jealous that I was with him."

"What makes you think that if I were human I'd be interested in you?" he asks and he stumps me once again. I mean, I can't be sure. What if we'd never even met? That could've been a distinct possibility.

"Would you like to be alive?" I ask him curiously.

"No, I don't really do the whole wanting thing," he answers. I think it's so sad. He can't even want. In some ways, he's this compassionate, snarky, kind person-type thing and then on the other hand, he's so emotionless and wooden. He only knows words, no touches or anything, he's never touched anything in his entire life, never known the comfort of another person.

"But if you had a choice, would you?"

"I don't know," he tells me.

"I think we'd be friends," I tell him.

"You do?"

"I do," I nod.

"Even after you've yelled at me and called me a creepy stalker?"

"Well, that's different, you wouldn't have been following me all the time if we were both human. Maybe we'd even be together or something, I don't know. Maybe then you would be jealous of Paul for getting to date me."

He laughs at that, "I'm telling you, I wouldn't be jealous of a guy that there's nothing to be jealous about."

"So you're really understanding this whole jealousy thing, huh?"

"I don't think so. I just know of the concept, I'm not an expert on anything except you."

I don't know why that sentiment made me blush, but it did. I can feel my cheeks burning from what I know isn't a compliment, but it sure as hell feels like one. I know I shouldn't take too much stock in his words because well they're just words, but Chris only gets across what he means in words and he must mean them to a degree. His voice was even matter-of-fact when he said it, but it still bubbles up my stomach with emotion.

"Are you…blushing?" he asks me amusingly.

"No," I say defensively though there is no tangible way I can cover up my face to hide my embarrassment.

"Why are you blushing?" he asks me and I look at him, thinking that he's teasing me, mocking me for actually blushing over something he said, but when I look at him, he honestly looks curious, like he has no idea.

"No reason," I tell him. At least this way I can save a tiny bit of my dignity. What was I thinking anyways, blushing to something he was obviously very literal about? He does know everything about me, it isn't a matter of hyperbole or exaggeration, Chris, simply, knows every moment from my entire being.

"You think I don't realize you're lying through your teeth?" Chris chuckles. "Stephanie, I know you, what's up?"

I stare at him for a while. He's not translucent, no, if he were translucent, I think that it would be easier to know that he's not real, well, not real in the sense that I can't prove he's there to anyone else. He's real to me. But he's solid looking, like I can touch him or something, but I can't. I can't hug him and tell him thanks for watching out for me or anything like that, but I can see him. He's real to me. What he says is real to me.

"Nothing, I just, what you said…"

"Did I upset you?" he wonders and it's the farthest thing from upset.

"No, I just, if you were real and you said that to me, I don't know, I think I would take it in a very different way."

"Say what?"

"When you said the only thing you're an expert about is me," I answer.

"Oh, you…you liked that?"

"Yeah, I did. Just…if you were human, not my angel and you said that, I mean, I had a very human reaction to it, I blushed because it felt like a compliment and I know that you can probably compliment me, well, I don't know if you can, but either way, it felt like a compliment, but I know that you meant it in the more literal sense of you knowing everything about me, but if you weren't an angel, well, that'd just be about the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me."

He smiles at me, "You think so?"

"I know so…now are you going to tell me all the compliments I've received over the years so I can assess and you can prove that I've been told very sweet things and should appreciate them."

"No, I wasn't going to do that," he tells me and I'm kind of glad. "I'm happy that you liked what I said."

"Are you?" I ask him, "Are you really?"

"Yes, I am."

"Chris, are you sure you don't want to be real?" I have to ask, just for good measure.

Because maybe if he wants to be real, I won't feel so bad wishing that he could be real.

"Like I said, Steph, I don't want for anything."

"Oh, well, yeah, I mean, angels shouldn't be wanting things, I guess, you've got bigger things to worry about, like making sure your person doesn't go walking off a cliff or something," I ramble. "You know, I should probably get back to Paul about the date, he'll want to know, you know, so he can plan whatever it is he's planning."

"Yeah, of course, I bet he's going to take you to one of those bodybuilding things and I'll be stuck watching it. That's my idea of a fun time…for you, fun for me isn't really fun, I don't have fun, not that I mean I'm a grouch, but you know what I mean."

"I do. Don't worry, I'll make sure it's not one of those competitions or anything, I promise," I respond, taking him into consideration, but why should I? It's not like he'd really care. He doesn't care so why do I treat him like such a normal person? Why do I want him to _be_ a normal person?

I'm starting to think these are ideas I don't want to explore.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, they're all so great and I'm still so surprised that people like this strange story. I don't even know where it came from, I know some people say it's kind of like City of Angels, but I've never seen that so I don't really know how it goes, but hopefully my direction turns out okay and not confusing. If it does become confusing for anyone, drop me a line and we'll talk and I'll explain to the best of my ability. Anyways, I really hope you like this chapter, I do! So leave a review and let me know what you think. :)

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"So you must have trained really hard then?"

"Yeah, I do, it take a lot of out of me, when I used to travel with Joanie…sorry," Paul says, shaking his head. "I keep mentioning her and I'm really sorry."

He does keep mentioning her, but I just smile and nod. It's okay that he keeps mentioning her, they did date for a really long time. I know I'm probably some sort of rebound for him so I guess I should just be understanding. "It's okay, you guys went out for a while, may I ask what happened?" I'm trying to be polite, engage him in conversation…

"Nice strategy," Chris says in my ear as I try to ignore him, "getting him to talk about Joanie so he won't talk anymore about how hard he trained, how he came up in the business, how he never thought he'd make it, how your father kept him down because he was in The Kliq, you'll have to explain to me what this clique, is, I'm not even sure what he means by that."

I want to shush Chris up, but I don't want to look like a complete freak in front of Paul. I find myself liking him. It's a strange attraction to be sure, but underneath all that crap about bodybuilding and wrestling, I think there's a good guy. I just hope that what I see on the surface isn't all there is. There is definitely more to life than the things he's talked about so far, maybe talking about something like an old relationship will let me see more into the person he actually is.

"I guess we just wanted different things," Paul tells me and he does seem a little bit on the sad side so I reach forward and place my hand over his, giving it a squeeze. He seems surprised by the gesture because his head kind of shoots up as he looks at me. He smiles a little, gratefully, and I smile back. "She had a terrible childhood and I think that just skewed her view of the future. She doesn't really ever want to settle down, not the normal way anyways. She doesn't want kids, she doesn't want to get married and sue me, I want that someday."

I want to ask Chris if that's true, if he can ask Chris's guardian angel if it is, but then another part of me is telling me that I shouldn't, that I should take Paul for his words. If Paul is going to hurt me down the line, I can't see how it'll happen. I don't see that guy in front of me, one that is going to hurt me. I believe him when he says these things to me and I don't want Chris to tell me otherwise. I think there has to be some surprise left in this world, even if it's just the small things.

"That's understandable," I respond, "I mean, that you didn't think you could handle that. If you guys wanted two different things, it's better to get out while you can then linger around to the point where you start to resent someone."

"I agree," he says, "it's just kind of been a process of getting over her. She was such…is such actually, still, such a big part of my life. I guess this is the danger of a relationship in the business, you know, you get burned and they're right there."

"Yeah, I understand," I tell him, though I really don't. Paul is the first guy that I've dated that's been in the company. "You're going to be okay though, I see great things in your future."

He looks at me then and I know that he might be reading a little too much into my words. I said them because those are the kinds of words that you say to cheer someone up, not that I'm implying I'm going to sleep with him later or something like that. I hope he didn't totally take that the wrong way and expects a free pass into my bed because it's not going to happen like that.

"I really like you, Stephanie," he says to me and I'm glad that he didn't make some crass remark back at me. "You're real, you know."

"Well, I am solid," I say, then catch myself and I look over at Chris, just to make sure I didn't hurt his feelings because he's not solid, but Chris can't have his feelings hurt, Chris doesn't even have a full set of feelings. He can't want something so I know I can't offend him. He's just sitting there, not even looking bored, just sitting there, looking around, silently protecting me. Hunter's laughing brings me back from my staring at Chris and I look back at him.

"Yeah, but you know what I mean, you're not like the other women in the company, you can't and don't rely on your looks to get you where you are. You work for it, not that they don't, I mean, Joanie worked her ass off…and I just mentioned her again. Damn it, I'm sorry, Stephanie."

I squeeze his hand after I realize I'm still grasping it. "It's really okay, you don't need to keep apologizing."

"I know, I just feel like such an idiot, here I am, out with you and you're so great, Stephanie, really, and here I am, talking about my ex-girlfriend," he shakes his head, "God, I'm pathetic."

"Wow, this is a side of you I thought I'd never see," I tell him, trying to ease the situation and the tension that I can feel building here. "You're a lot less intense when you're not in the ring, it's kind of a stark contrast."

"Contrary to popular belief, I _can_ differentiate between being at work and being not at work," he tells me and I nod. I don't know what I was expecting really, like maybe for him to have that look on his face that he gets when he's in the ring, the one where he stares you down and makes you wither.

"Good to know," I wink at him. The check comes now and Paul looks at it disdainfully. "What's wrong?"

"I really don't want to stop talking to you," he admits to me and I melt a little inside, I can't help it. Paul is just so sweet and nice and different from what I thought. I'm glad I chose to go on this second date because I can see myself dating Paul now. I couldn't see it at first, but now that I'm here with him, I can see it. He's not the guy I see at work and I appreciate that he's not that guy. This guy, the one I'm with right now, I can see myself holding hands with and spending quiet time with.

"That's really sweet," I tell him, looking down a little. Chris had been quiet for an awfully long time so I take the moment to look over at him and he's still just sitting there, stoically, like he doesn't even care about me or about what I'm doing, almost like he'd rather be anywhere else but right here.

Paul pays for dinner and takes me back to my hotel and I kiss him goodnight. It's a better kiss than the first one we had on our first date and I think our chemistry is getting better by the instant. I leave him with a lingering kiss and then go inside, sighing along the way, happy with how the night turned out. I'm happy to report that the date was a success and that I am smart for having accepted the second date in the first place. I start to undress, pulling off my shirt and taking off my pants, leaving me in my underwear as I go to the shower. Chris still hasn't said anything, but I'm too tired to wonder why as I climb into the shower after the warm water has appeared.

He doesn't stay in the bathroom with me, I don't see him through the glass so he must be in the other room. I'm happy that he's given me a little bit of privacy. When I'm through, I throw my hair into a braid and brush my teeth before hopping into bed. Chris is sitting in the chair in the corner. "You've been awfully quiet tonight," I let him know as if he didn't know he wasn't saying anything.

"I'm just thinking," he tells me, going back to this thinking.

"What are you thinking about?" I wonder, the television suddenly becoming far less interesting. I scoot forward on the bed and then lie on my stomach, putting my chin in my hands as I gaze at him. "Or can you not tell me?"

"What do you see in Paul?" he asks and my mood darkens a little bit. "I mean, there's nothing to him, there's no substance there."

"What are you talking about? Did you _see_ him tonight? Did you even listen to what he was saying? He's a really nice guy and he was being so sweet to me. Like unbelievably sweet."

"And that didn't come off as fake to you?"

"No, it didn't and what do you know about being fake anyways?"

"I can read people, it's kind of what I do when I protect you," he tells me and if I didn't know any better, I would say that he was mad, but surely…surely Chris can't ever be mad. He's an angel, they can't be mad, a mad angel is like an oxymoron, or a demon, a demon used to be an angel if I'm remembering the entire Satan being cast from heaven thing and taking the bad angels with him.

"So you think he's fake?"

"I'm just asking if you thought he was being fake."

"I don't think he was being fake," I tell him forcefully. "Why are you asking? Is he going to be the one to do something to me? It's him, isn't it?"

"I'm not saying that," Chris said, "I just watch out for you, that's all, that's what I do and I'm trying to figure this guy out, that's all. I just want to find out what he's about and what you see in him. We both know you haven't picked out the greatest guys."

"Chris," I said, my voice nearly a growl, "that is the point of dating. You wouldn't know because you don't date because you're an angel it's not your job to go out and fall in love and want to be with someone. You have to find that person and that's why you go out and find someone and it's trial and error, not that you would get that."

"I get it, you just keep picking duds is all."

"The guys I like are not duds," I tell him, getting defensive. Who is he to tell me what I've done and haven't done? He's not in my head, he doesn't know my type, sure, he's seen everything there is to see about me, but he doesn't know what I'm attracted to or what turns me on, he's not there to know that.

"Yes, they are, Paul is boring."

"He is not! You know, I really don't need your input about these things, you're not here to give me relationship advice or tell me if my boyfriends are bad or not."

"So now he's your boyfriend, interesting," Chris says in that monotone voice he gets sometimes. I think that voice is because whatever any human would be feeling right now, he can't feel so instead, he becomes devoid of emotion, like some sort of empty vessel that breathes…wait, no, he doesn't even breathe, he's an apparition. He might not even look human in his real form but only pretends to be a human so I won't be frightened.

"I didn't say that, plus, what's it to you?"

"I'm your guardian angel."

"Yeah, so protect me from the bad stuff and stop trying to play match-maker for him, I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions regarding the people that I choose to date. What would you know about the kind of guys I like?"

"Well, when you talk to yourself, you say stuff," he tells me and he's being so rational because he can't get heated like I can. He can be snarky to a fault, but he can't be mad, he can't get mad and that makes me even madder because it's like fighting with a computer.

"So? That doesn't mean you know everything."

"Okay, it doesn't mean I know everything," he agrees, but I'm getting even madder. I want him to fight back, I want him to yell at me and scream at me and _feel_ at me. I just want him involved in this conversation, but it's impossible for him to be.

"Why do you think you get to stick your nose in my business?" I say, jumping off the bed. I know I'm going off the rails, but it's like I want something to happen, for him to just burst with feeling so he can know what it's like to feel this anger that is pulsing through my blood like electricity, sizzling me.

"I'm your guardian angel," he repeats, like he has some form in front of him, like this is protocol and he's just going through the motions. This is where mad would be if he could feel, I know it. I know that if he could just feel, he'd be standing in front of me, yelling and screaming at me. I'm arguing with myself essentially because he can't argue back, not in the human sense.

"Stop saying that, I know what you are!" I yell at him. "That doesn't give you the right to tell me about who I should and shouldn't date."

"I was just asking a question."

"You were butting in, you're always butting in! You're always there, I didn't ask for you to be here, I didn't ask for you to scrutinize every single part of my life. You have a job to do, that job is to protect me, it's not to scoff at my choice of dates or to tell me that Paul is boring or fake, that is _not_ your job. Your job is to sit in the corner and protect me! Am I right?"

"Yes, my job is to protect you," he says in that even voice. Damn it, _feel_, Chris!

"Then you should just do your job, I didn't ask you to do anymore, I didn't ask you to appear to me! I don't want your input in any part of my life, I don't want you, I wish you would just disappear and I wouldn't see you so you couldn't tell me what to think and what to do because news flash, you're _not_ me!"

"Okay," he says and then he's gone. Just like that. I blinked and he was gone, nothing sitting there. I laugh and shake my head, so where is he now? I go into the bathroom, but there's nobody in there, I come back out, expecting him to be lounging on the bed, but he's not there either. He's not anywhere, I even look at the ceiling, maybe he's floating up there. He's gone, just like that, he's gone. How could he just leave like that? He's never left before, never. I know he's still here because after all, he _is_ my guardian angel, but I can't feel his presence or see his eyes on me.

"Chris?" I call out tentatively, like this is just a joke and he's letting me calm down to see how foolish I've been. "Chris?"

There's no answer, no poof and he's here, nothing, nobody…I'm alone. Now I'm mad again, mad that he would do this to me.

"Fine then, I don't need you anyways!"


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I got several requests for more of this story so I thought, what the hell, and updated it so here it is. Thank you to everyone who's been reviewing this, it really makes me so happy since the concept is so completely out there. I really like this chapter and I hope you like it too and if you want to leave a review, that would make me a very happy girl, anyways, enjoy. :)

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I know that he's still around. I know this. I just can't see him, but he's still somewhere around here, watching me, because that's his job. You don't just switch off with someone else, swap to another person. That's not how this works. Actually, I don't know how this works. Maybe in special circumstances you can switch angels with someone and that's why Chris has been gone for three days now. He's with another person who takes him more seriously, who lets him do his job and doesn't constantly argue with him, even if every argument is one-sided.

But I don't think that's how it works. I think he's still around here somewhere, but I just can't see him. Sometimes I think I feel his presence, but that might just be my imagination hoping that I feel his presence because it's comforting to know he was watching over me when I couldn't see him. I might even just take his disembodied voice telling me that he's still there at this point, but I'm too prideful so I'm not going to say anything. I simply know he's there, watching me, probably waiting for me to grovel to him or not, I don't think angels would advocate groveling.

When I was in high school, he used to stand down the hallway from me, apparently leaning against the wall. He would look like a high school student, dressed in the same clothes that most of the other guys were in. I don't know if he was trying to go incognito or something or maybe it was just that he wanted to blend in and not frighten me. Still, I knew he was there, always. I can't stress enough how it seems that Chris ages with me, but not really. It's so hard to explain, but it's like, it's like he's growing with me. He always kind of looked like the bad boy when he'd lean there, you know the ones from movies or videos or whatever, the kind where the good girl transforms him into a good guy or some nonsense like that. He was brooding, except now I know it wasn't brooding at all. More like…protecting.

When I was in college, I pretty effectively ignored Chris. He must have still been there, he had to have been, but I ignored him because I just wanted a normal life. I was scared to look because at that point, I'd taken a couple psychology courses, enough to know that seeing people and having seen Chris for a very long time, might mean that I have serious mental issues. Hell, I probably do have serious mental issues. Either way, I knew it wasn't normal and I so desperately wanted to be normal so I just ignored him and went on with my life and I guess that's what I have to do right now because he's not here.

Well, no, he is here, but he's not here to talk to and for the first time in a while, in a long time actually, I feel like I have to wade through my life by myself. I'm still slightly angry that he left, okay, slightly isn't the right word, I'm _angry_ that he left. He comes to me, for the first time in a long time and tells me he is here to protect me, that there's some invisible threat in front of me that I can't see. Then he leaves, he leaves me to my own devices and there's this big scary monster lurking around the corner that I can't see and what if it jumps out and Chris isn't here, isn't manifested in front of me to protect me.

He said he'd always protect me and I'm not feeling much protected now.

Still, there is Paul and I still have a good feeling about him. Whatever Chris thought of him was wrong. I know, logically, that Chris was not jealous, there's no way he could be, but if he's not jealous, what was all that? I just don't understand why he would act like that towards Paul. I don't want to believe that Paul could be the big, scary monster, but he could be and if he is, then who will protect me? But I really believe it's not Paul and maybe Paul is the one to protect me, maybe that's the real reason Chris acted the way he did, because he was giving me over to Paul without trying to make it seem that way. Stupid, huh? I'm just trying to come up with a way to explain the strange events over the last few days.

I'm sitting in Paul's hotel room right now, just hanging out and watching television. We've been hanging out a lot since Chris left and I'm the one initiating the contact. When you've been around a being or person or angel for the past twenty-odd years, you get used to a presence and I've been feeling lonely, though I'm loath to admit it. So hanging out with Paul is the only way that I don't feel alone. I don't think he's complaining because he's always eager to see me so he must really like me and if he does, he won't hurt me.

"Hey, Paul," I say, turning to him.

"Yeah?" he asks, turning his head towards me.

"Do you believe in guardian angels?" I ask him, wondering what his take on the situation is. I'm not going to tell him about Chris, obviously, but I just want to know what his thoughts are. Chris is probably smirking right now, realizing I can't get him out of my head, but whatever, he's my guardian angel, of course he's going to be on my mind, it's not like he's a random person off the street.

"Guardian angels, like an angel that follows you around or something?"

"Yeah, like that, like, do you believe you have a guy named Murray or something watching over you?"

Paul laughs, "I don't know, don't you think that seems a little absurd, I mean, in the grand scheme of things, having some sort of angel walking around with you all the time. I mean, I believe in heaven and that there are angels, I guess, you know, plucking their harps and sitting on clouds, it's a nice thought, but I don't know."

I find myself just a little offended by his words. I don't doubt there's a heaven (not anymore, I mean, I have an angel!), but I don't picture cloud-sitting and harp-playing. That's like one person's vision of nature. I think back to one of my college courses when we read Dante's _Paradiso_ and that story is all about traveling through heaven, but heaven was very vague and undefined. The only prevailing characteristics of heaven were that it was warm and that it smelled good (because in Dante's time that was what heaven was for people, someplace warm and someplace that smelled good), but other than that, heaven was what you made of it really. I think heaven is whatever you want and I feel odd that Paul could be so blasé about it all.

"You don't think you have an angel?"

"I think that like my grandma is watching over me, you know," he tells me and I just nod. "Why are we even on this? You have a near-death experience?"

"No, nothing like that, I was just watching a show about people who think they've seen their guardian angels," I tell him, trying to cover up and I think I've done a pretty good job. Chris would've congratulated me on the fine job of improvising. Then he'd bring up the time when I was fifteen and stayed out past curfew and had to improvise a story to get out of a grounding, which I am happy to say I did.

"Are you sure it wasn't a show on people who needed to go to the loony bin."

My face drops a little bit. I know I shouldn't be mad at that, I shouldn't get offended because if I told him right now that I could see (or used to see) my guardian angel, he's going to think I'm crazy because it _is_ crazy, I can't deny that what I see or know is crazy, but I don't know, it just makes me a little upset. There's _nobody_ I can tell about Chris, not my parents, not my brother, not my best friends, not my boyfriend, there's nobody I can tell. There's nobody that will believe me.

There's nobody I can say that I miss him to.

"They don't deserve to go there, you don't know!" I say, my voice rising at the end, enough to make him look in my direction with surprise.

"I'm…sorry," he says slowly. "I didn't know it was such a touchy subject."

"It's not," I respond, trying to control the decibel level of my voice. He really _will_ think I'm crazy if I push this. "I just don't think that the idea or the concept is out of the question. What is so wrong with having someone there to protect you, you know?"

"There's nothing wrong, I just think that you know, if you're seeing angels, maybe there's something wrong with you, that's all I'm saying, but obviously you think differently."

"I think it's a comforting thought," I tell him and somehow, I think I'm telling Chris too. I look around the room, as if my confessional right here will bring him back. Paul is staring at me, I can feel his eyes, but it's not about him right now. There's still no Chris and I almost except his voice over my shoulder to surprise me, but nothing. I've really done it now, I've really driven him away and now I have to live the rest of my life alone…what am I saying? I'm not even alone right now.

"It is," he says to me and I smile at him.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why it's getting to me," I shake my head. I'm being stupid. I'm not alone, Paul is right here with me and I lean forward to press my lips against his. I'm not trying to tide over any loneliness. I'm not trying to forget Chris, I'm just comfortable with Paul and maybe that _was_ Chris's intention because if he doesn't come back after what I just said, I don't think he's going to come back. He's giving me over to a new kind of protection I guess and I guess I don't need his words anymore either.

"It's okay," he tells me when he pulls away, pecking my lips as he does so. "You obviously believe someone is watching over you, I get that."

"I just like that thought."

"So what do you think your guardian angel is like then?" he says and I think I like him all the more for indulging me like this. He doesn't have to like my stupid conversation, but even with this, he's trying to remain involved.

Of course, he's making me think of Chris so it's a double-edged sword. I can just see Chris leaning over right now, probably right over Paul's shoulder, smirking and smiling and wondering just how I'm going to describe him. I _could_ just lie and say I picture my grandma or some other beautiful woman in a white satiny robe with ringlets for hair and a halo perched atop her gorgeous head. I think Chris's halo is slightly crooked and maybe bent a little bit, just a little. But what if he got hurt if I didn't describe him? Wait, angels don't get hurt, they're not capable so I could lie, I _could_.

"Mine's a guy," I start with a definite sense of firmness, like this is real and it _is_ and I think I've caught his attention.

"A guy angel, nice," Paul tells me with a slight chuckle, but I'm not laughing.

"He's…gorgeous," I continue and if Chris had an ego, it'd be inflated right now. I've got to stop personifying him. "But then, I think all angels are gorgeous, you know, because their sole purpose is to just be around you so why not make them these beautiful things. His name would be Chris. He'd be slightly annoying, but then, I know I'm slightly annoying so it would be apt if he were too. He'd be funny and he'd look out for me, even when I don't want him to, even when I'm a horrible person, he'd still be there. And I think guardian angels are there just for you, like, it can't be a family member that died or someone who was alive. An angel is someone just for you, made for you, that's why Chris would be very sarcastic because that's how I am. And they'd remember, they'd remember everything about you even though it's annoying that they can pull up any memory of yours and recite it back to you in perfect detail, dialogue and all. But it's kind of comforting too, to know they have that and someday, when they come to tell you that it's time, they'll have a lifetime stored inside them and then you get to spend the rest of eternity talking about it and living it again."

"That's really beautiful," Paul says and I realize I'd drifted off into my own thoughts and had forgotten he was there. I look around again, just in case, just in case Chris wanted to come back and just say he told me so even though he would _never_ say that. He'd probably get a call from God if he did.

"Thanks, I don't know, just what I think, you know."

"It's a really nice thought," he says, then wraps his arm around me again as he turns to the television. "I like that idea. I hope that my angel is just as cool as your angel."

"I'm sure they are," I say, not saying anything like I've heard about your angel because that'd be inappropriate. "So maybe those people aren't crazy then, right?"

"You know, they're probably not."

I smile and cuddle against him, that emptiness waning just a little bit. Paul may believe it was just a story, but at least someone knows about Chris. At least someone else in the world knows that he's out there and that, somehow, makes him a little more real. Like the last twenty-four years really did happen and I'm not crazy. That Chris was really here and not just a figment of my imagination that I decided to banish from my mind, the imaginary friend that finally went poof. Chris was here, Chris _is_ here, somewhere, protecting me and now, even if he doesn't think it, Paul knows, _someone_ knows.

For the first time in days, I think I can feel Chris's presence.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews for my crazy angel story lol. I sort of got a request to update this so I thought, what the hell and did. Hope you like the chapter and if you want to leave a review, well, I'm not going to argue with that because reviews are very nice. Anyways, enjoy. :)

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"You look distracted."

I can feel Paul's hand brushing my hair back from behind me as he comes around to sit next to me. I can recognize his hands. My hand always seems to disappear when we're holding hands. I don't know if the old adage about large hands and large…other parts is true, Paul and I haven't gotten that far yet, though I'm sure at some point, he'll get impatient and then I'll get impatient and we'll fall into bed together. It might even be good, especially because I won't see Chris standing in the room, observing me like a perverted voyeur, not that he was a perverted voyeur before, Chris doesn't have desires like I do I'm sure. It's probably not in his repertoire. Besides, what would he even desire?

"Distracted?" I ask. I don't feel like I'm distracted. I'm here with him and I'm sitting with him and okay, so maybe I'm slightly…off-kilter. I just feel kind of off ever since Chris left, but I'm trying very hard to not think about it. Maybe if I don't think about him, he'll be so offended that he'll come back. Still, if he doesn't come back, that's his problem, not mine. It's not like I don't know he's there somewhere so it's not like I'm really _missing_ anything.

He's still playing with my hair then rubbing the back of my neck, like I'm tense or something. I don't feel tense, but maybe he's feeling something I can't feel. "Yeah, you just seem kind of out of it. How's work going for you?"

"Shouldn't you know, since you're there with me all the time?" I joke. It feels good to say something jokingly. I haven't felt very joke-like in the past week or so. Not to say that I haven't joked around, but I haven't been into feeling light. Maybe now I can really move past this and get back to normal, whatever normal is. I've never been normal, what with seeing my guardian angel all the time. Hey, maybe this means I can finally experience what the normal, average person experiences. Already I'm seeing silver lining.

"I guess I should pay more attention to you, shouldn't I?" he says, leaning over and kissing me on the cheek. He really likes the physical contact between us. I don't know if it's because he wants to show me off or if he's just one of those guys that likes to constantly have some sort of physical contact with their girlfriend. It doesn't really bother me because whenever he's touching me, it means he's here and I like that feeling. With Chris, I knew he was around and so I never felt alone.

Okay, so I'm going on and on about Chris and he's not even really here for me to see. No wonder Paul thinks I'm distracted. It's not that I'm _always_ thinking about Chris, there are times when I'm not even thinking about him at all, but I admit, I do think about him a lot. It's hard not to, knowing that he's hovering around without me knowing. Maybe I walk right through him sometimes and he laughs at me for being such an idiot. Maybe he's always laughing at me...he is a very sarcastic angel. He probably does laugh at me.

"I guess you should," I tell him in my best flirtatious voice.

"I definitely will then," he says, giving me a kiss right below my earlobe. "What is going on in that brain of yours?"

"You'd never believe me," I tell him.

"Try me," he says and he wouldn't believe me. Nobody would, unless I find someone who can see their own guardian angel as well, but how would I ever go about finding someone else? I don't think the, "Hi, do you see your guardian angel" approach will work for me. I think that would get me weird looks and a stay in a psychiatric ward. I am under the impression that other people _can_ see their guardian angels, Chris said as much so they must be out there, but they're either considered absolutely insane or they're those hippy-dippy people that own hippy-dippy stores that sell crystal balls and healing stones.

"It's nothing, you're right, it's just work catching up with me, that's all," Stephanie said, rubbing her head a little. "I'm just not used to the work days yet. It's only been a very short time since I even started traveling with the company, barely even a year, and I guess I'm just not used to it yet."

"Yeah, it takes time to ease in, plus your role has significantly increased as the year has gone on."

"True," I shrug. "So I guess it's just all really catching up to me now. I'm just kind of tired, not like tired of my life, but just exhausted tired."

"Do you want me to give you a massage so you can relax?" he asks and there he goes again with the physical contact. Should I be wary of it? Could Paul try to force something more sinister on me? I mean, he seems like he just wants to give me a massage, help me release the tension I can't feel, but know is probably there, but what if there's something darker. I could be laying on my stomach and he could suddenly flip me over and pin me to the floor or the couch. My eyes widen and I think about it for a moment. That would be terrifying, Paul is so much bigger than I am, I would have no hope of getting free. And here I am speculating that my boyfriend is secretly a rapist and God, now I'm paranoid.

"No thanks," I say simply. "I'm good."

"Okay, well, if you're good, do you think you would want to come out to dinner with me and the guys tonight?"

"The guys?" I inquire, wondering just who his guys are for the night, though I can make an educated guess. Paul isn't too popular backstage, we both know that. It's not because he's dating me, the boss's daughter, it's just his demeanor. While he's incredibly sweet and nice to me, when it comes to business, he's as cutthroat as my father. He wants to be the best and he'll step on the little guy to get there. This has made him unpopular in the locker room and for good reason, a lot of guys are jealous and a lot of guys are bitter.

"Sean Waltman, Kip, B.G., you know, the crew."

"Oh, yeah, _the crew_," I say.

"You up for going?"

"You know, I don't think so," I tell him. It's not that I don't want dinner with him, I don't want dinner with his _crew_. They're all very loud and obnoxious and get a few drinks into them and they become even more raucous. I'm not the type of person who likes that kind of thing so I think I'll decline. Although, if I went, I think it would get my mind off Chris for a while. That might just be what I need, a few stiff drinks burning their way through my system. "On second thought, sure, I'll go."

"Awesome," he says, giving me a kiss for my trouble. "We'll meet you after the show then?"

"Yeah, meet me after the show."

I know as soon as I walk into the bar that I'm making the wrong choice. Chris would have chastised me, telling me that this kind of place was not where I should be. But he's not here to tell me and if he was going to save me, he hasn't appeared yet so I must be in the clear. It's not the seediest place I've ever seen, but it's worn and there's evidence of its rough and tumble nature from the way the bar is decorated. I feel instantly out of place, but Paul wraps a protective arm around me, silently letting everyone know that I'm his. I see a few other wrestlers are in here so someone must've sent the word out. There are a few divas as well so that puts me a little more at ease, but not by much. Chris still wouldn't like seeing me in this kind of place, he's probably shaking his head right now, scoping out the joint, seeing or knowing if something is going to hurt me. I find myself scanning for the same prospects.

Then I remind myself that this night is one where I'm supposed to forget Chris. He's supposed to be a blip on the radar tonight and nothing more. So I tell Paul that I want something strong, a martini, scotch neat, just something stiff. He brings me a cosmopolitan and that's fine with me. I take that first burning sip and as it bitterly slides down my throat I know this won't be my first one. But I'll reign it in, I won't have five or some ridiculous number like that. I'll have two, maybe a beer as well, but nothing too much, nothing to get me drunk. I don't want to be drunk. Too many bad things happen when you're drunk. I just want that buzzed feeling, the one where you feel like you're on top of the world, but you still have enough faculties left that you don't make some stupid decision you'll regret.

I like that feeling and when it's washing over me later, I feel myself opening up just a little bit more. Chris is not _the_ farthest thing from my mind, but he's pretty damn low on the list. It feels good not to think about him constantly, not to worry about where he is or where life is going to take me. I'm living in the moment for once, not thinking about that scary future that may creep up on me at any moment. And I like being with Paul. I like the weight of his arm across my shoulder, letting everyone know we're together, protecting me. I like feeling like we're the "it" couple around here. I like that feeling and I want it to continue all night. I wish it could continue all night.

"You sure had fun tonight," Paul tells me as we're leaving the cab we took back to the hotel. The buzz has worn off a bit, but I still feel pretty good. We left everyone at the bar and decided to go back to the hotel. I think Paul could sense that I was getting a little bit sleepy and that the noise of the bar was getting to be too much.

"Yeah, it was nice," I tell him, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Thanks for bringing me."

"Thanks for coming," he tells me back as we ride the elevator up to my hotel room. I lean against him, letting him be my pillow of sorts. I am suddenly feeling tired, but that's probably just an effect of the alcohol. It makes me sleepy sometimes, for some reason.

We finally get to my floor and he helps me to my door, actually going through my bag to get my keycard for me. He helps me inside and takes me to my bedroom, lying me down on the bed. He lies down next to me and then just watches me. I smile at him and he smiles back and brushes my hair out of my face. He really is a very nice man and he's probably not a scary guy. People just don't understand him. It's a shame too, if people would just get to know him, I know they'd like him as much s I do. No matter what Chris thinks about his personality.

And there are my thoughts going right back to Chris and I can feel my smile faltering a little bit and Paul notices. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I answer, pushing my smile back up.

"No, something's wrong, I've sensed it for like a week now. I don't think it has anything to do with work though, want to tell me what it is?"

"No, not really, it's nothing, just missing someone," I tell him, leaving it vague enough to where he probably won't suspect I'm talking about an angel.

"Who?"

"Just an old friend, we kind of lost touch recently and I miss him."

"I'm sorry, that's too bad."

"Yeah," I say, then yawn. "I think I'm just going to head to bed."

"Okay, well, I'll let you be then," he said, leaning forward to kiss me. I kiss him back lazily, taking him in for the moment. "Can I call you tomorrow?"

"I think I would be hurt if you didn't."

He grins at that and I'm happy to make him smile. "Then I'll call you tomorrow, sweet dreams."

"Sweet dreams to you," I respond. He winks at me before getting off the bed. I close my eyes as he walks out of the room. I hear the door close and I'm alone again. I sigh and open my eyes, shifting so I'm lying on my back, staring at the ceiling. I should be getting up and putting my pajamas on and brushing my teeth, but I'm too tired to get up right now so I just lay there and stare. That's it, just stare…as my thoughts drift back to Chris.

When I'm alone in my room and have nothing but my thoughts, that's when he's there in my brain and sticks there. There's no forcing him out of my thoughts when they're the only thing to keep me company at night. It's lonely without anyone there. I never knew loneliness, not ever because I've never actually been alone. Now I am and I don't understand how people can deal with this. I don't understand how they can sit here night after night all alone and not want to pull their hair out. It's only been a very short time and I feel so alone that it chokes me.

"Chris, will you please come back?" I want to blame the alcohol for making me say it. I want to, but I know it's not the alcohol at all, it's my gut, my heart, it's everything inside of me spilling out because more than anything, I just want Chris back.

"You beckoned?"


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews! I love writing this story so much, it's quickly becoming one of my favorites so I hope you're enjoying just as much. This is for Luanne since her team lost to my team this weekend and I felt bad. Hope it lives up to expectations, Luanne! Hope you all enjoy the chapter and reviews are really appreciated. :)

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At first I think I'm dreaming or maybe that alcohol has infected my brain and isn't letting me think properly. But then, no, it feels too real and I don't think that I've drifted off. I turn to my left from whence I heard the voice and I can feel my eyes widen as I take him in. He's standing there, arms folded, his lips curled up into a smirk and I swear to God, an ethereal glow to him, like he's just descended from heaven to see me.

I immediately flip onto my side and then in my astonishment I find myself kneeling on the bed in front of him. I feel like saying something, saying everything, but my mouth feels wired shut, like I can form the words in my throat, but they won't come out of my mouth. Instead I hear strangling squeaks of some emotion. I think it's relief mostly, sheer relief that he's here and I can see him and he's standing there with me again.

"Chris," I manage to stutter out, my throat nearly clamping shut.

"Yeah, you called?"

"How, but why…I don't…you left me!" My anger flares up and he just stares at me, that infuriating smirk back on his face again. How can he look at me like that after what he did to me? He left me here all alone and defenseless, without a guardian angel.

"I didn't leave you, Stephanie," he tells me. "I've been here all along, I'm your guardian angel, we don't just go someplace, we can't, I'm tethered to you, were you not listening during the entire conversation we had about how I'm made for you."

"I was listening, but you disappeared."

"I just didn't manifest myself. Look, it was getting pretty obvious that you were upset with the situation. As a guardian angel, I am supposed to prevent something like that, so I was preventing you from getting more upset."

"By leaving me! You've never left me before!"

"I didn't leave you, Stephanie, I've been here the entire time, trust me, I had to watch you and Paul get all warm and cozy with each other," he said and he's right back to being his sarcastic angel self. The time apart hasn't changed him one bit. "Then tonight with your drinking, not like you at all."

"Well, I wanted to go out and have fun," I huff, lying down on the bed again, closing my eyes. I can feel Chris's presence getting closer and I don't want to open my eyes because I don't want to look at him right now. He knows too much about me, much too much and it's unnerving. I won't admit to him though that his presence is extremely comforting.

"Sure you did," he teases me and I want to smack him and I would too if my hand wouldn't go right through him. I open my eyes and nearly gasp because he's right in front of me, appearing to lie on his side, staring at me. I look at him and my lips involuntarily turn up in the corners, just a tiny bit, not a real smile, but just, two lips turned up.

"Shut up," I tell him, blushing the slightest bit.

"You missed me," he told her. "And you can't even deny it because I've been here the entire week and I know what you've said and I've heard it all. I heard every last word. I like the description of me by the way, very flattering. If I had it in me to be cocky, I think I might be after a speech like that."

"Stop," I whine, getting very embarrassed now. He knows too much about me and it's times like these when that information gets me in trouble and makes me feel like a kid again. Still, he's here, he's really here and he's not going anywhere anymore, I have to make sure of that.

"It was nice to hear that I'm appreciated," he tells me sincerely and I stare at him, that beautiful countenance. His face just draws me in like nothing else in this world. I think I could stare at it for hours. God really knew what he was doing when he thought of this angel thing. I wonder if every angel is just as beautiful as Chris is.

"Well, it's your job to protect me, what's not to like, your entire life is me…or existence I guess since you don't have a life."

"Ouch, that one stung," he jokes and I'm glad for it. I couldn't stand the loneliness anymore and that empty, lost feeling is slowly being filled up with that sense of belonging and acceptance that Chris has always afforded me. It wasn't until he was gone that I realized that I've never felt like an outcast because I always knew, even in my darkest hours that Chris was there for me. He always made me feel special, even when I didn't want him around.

"Why did you come back?" I ask him seriously. I want to know the answer. One second he was gone and the next, he was here, like he'd never left me.

"You asked me to," he answers like it was nothing.

"You mean, all I had to do was ask you to come back, that's it?" I ask. All this time I've been…missing him and thinking about him and wondering where he was and all I had to do was ask him to come back and that's it? He would've come back in a flash, without any questions if I'd just asked! I take a deep breath so I don't lose it on him again.

"Of course. I've been waiting for you to say it and waiting and waiting. Look, you didn't want me around so I wasn't around, but if you want me around, you just have to ask me and there I am, I'm your guardian angel, I wasn't going to deny you your request."

I have to just say it and get it out there, "I'm glad you came back."

There, it's out there and maybe he'll mock me for it. It would be well within his wheelhouse to do so, what with his sarcastic nature, his almost _too_ sarcastic nature. I wonder what the well-mannered angels are like. They probably don't try to interfere and just stand there looking beautiful, like statues. They don't comment on every little thing and then try to make themselves look superior, not that Chris does that. Chris, as a guardian angel, has to know his place in the hierarchy, he works for _God_ after all.

"I'm glad you wanted me back," he tells me and his voice lowers, takes on a more serious tone that I didn't know he had in him. I kind of like it. I stare at him for a few more seconds and I don't like the feeling that's rising inside of me. I think I know what the feeling is, but the feeling is also impossible so I have to push it down. I cannot allow that feeling to be pushed into the forefront.

"Do you miss things, Chris?" I ask him.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I missed you," I answer. "I think I missed you more than I can say. I just…I missed you, did you…_can_ you miss me?"

"I'm not sure," he said, his brow furrowing just a little bit and it's the first time I've ever seen him look something akin to confused. I would never figure an angel to be confused. They know things that I can never know while I'm here on Earth. They must know so many secrets to the universe so what would he have to be confused about.

"What do you mean you're not sure?"

"I don't think I'm supposed to miss you," Chris said. "I was there with you, always, you know that, I would _never_ leave your side, you do know that, right?"

"Of course I know, you were made for me," I respond and my fingers twitch to reach out and grab his hand, but he has no hand. It's just air in front of me and even if I try to feel _something_ when I'm touching his presence, I know I won't because though Chris is as real as the thoughts I'm thinking right now, there are also rules and I can't touch him, just see him and sense him and be around him.

"We can never be separated," he tells me.

"I know," I repeat. I understand his place in my life now. I think the little girl in my understood on some level, though the teenager and young adult rebelled and rebelled hard. But I know now, I understand who he is and why he's here and what purpose he serves. I know he's here for me forever and I'm so thankful for that. Him being gone for as long as he was confirms that for me, that I'm thankful and grateful to have him in my life, that every person is even if they can't see their own guardian angel.

"Still, it was…there was a feeling that came over me when I didn't talk to you. I'm disciplined so I can go long amounts of time without speaking or doing anything. I just stand there while you're sleeping--"

"Yeah, that's not creepy at all," I joke and he smiles at me, appreciating it.

"Still, it just felt…I don't know how it felt not to talk to you. I've never felt anything like it before. I don't know how to describe it because I don't think I have the words to describe it because I don't know what it was."

"Was it in this general area?" I gesture my hands around his heart and then his stomach. "I mean, when you do feel things, do you feel them like I feel them? Do you know?"

"Well, when I'm happy, there's a feeling of euphoria that I get all over," he says, kind of obliviously, like he's talking of the weather.

"Well, was the feeling in that general area then?"

"Yeah, it was." I nod and he looks at me curiously. I don't think it's often when I know something that he doesn't know and I relish in it a little bit.

"I think you missed me too," I explain to him. "Sometimes, when you miss someone, you get this ache in your chest, particularly your heart. It's just like a pang, like your body is convulsing inwardly, like there's a black hole in your chest and it's trying to suck your body into it."

"I don't have a heart," he tells me and it's just so matter-of-fact. He isn't trying to be mean or harsh, he's just telling me the truth, but I think it's only the truth as he knows it.

"You think, don't you, Chris?"

"Yeah, I think."

"Then you must have something like a heart. There has to be something in you. You have a soul, I don't think God would not give you a heart. You feel compassion and that comes from the heart so who's to say that you don't have one? I think you do."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah, I really think so."

"I guess…I guess what you said is true, it did feel like a pang, like there was something in there, I guess," he looks down at his chest like he can see through it, maybe he can and he just never bothered to look."

"See, you missed me too."

"But I saw you, so it's odd."

"Yeah, but you didn't speak to me, you just had to stand there and watch me and not say anything and keep your mouth shut even when Paul was over here, which I know must have killed you, but you have to see now that he's not such a bad guy, right?"

"He's still the same Paul."

"You're insufferable," I tell him, pursing my lips.

"But how can I miss you if I've been through years of you ignoring me?" he wonders, maybe he didn't mean to say that, but he did. "You hated me back then, you never wanted to speak to me and you ignored me, you ignored me so much that you forgot I existed, you thought I'd disappeared then when I hadn't."

"But it's different now."

"How is it different now?"

"Because we weren't in each other's lives, I mean, we were, obviously, but we didn't talk to each other, we weren't friends…now we are and you're bound to miss a friend."

"We're friends?" he laughs.

"Chris, you know what I mean, I don't know how to explain our relationship, angel and trustee? Heavenly being and girl? I thought that friends was an apt description of what we are, do you not agree?"

"No, I like that, friends, we're friends."

"You missed me," I tell him, giggling a little bit. I'm not sure why that gets me so much, but I guess I just figured that Chris couldn't miss anything, but he missed me. He wanted to be around me just as much as I wanted to be around him. That emptiness was never really emptiness because we were feeling the same thing. I just had to tell him so, I had to want him back and let him know and I did and now he's back and I feel safe again. It doesn't even occur to me until exactly this moment that it feels like we're both lying in bed. Everything has just been so comfortable around Chris. But then, I think, if I'd allowed myself to feel him and see him more often in years past, I think I would've felt this comfortable back then as well. He has that knack.

"Yeah." He looks down and he almost looks wistful or curious and I wonder what that's about. Again, I want to touch him, but there'd just be air. Instead I clear my throat and he looks up at me again.

"What is it?" I inquire, wanting to know what has that look on his face. I didn't even know he could have a wistful look, I didn't think it was in his repertoire.

"I don't know," he tells me, just looking at me. "I just have never felt anything like it before and I don't know…I'm just getting used to it, I guess."

"I guess it would take some time getting used to…Chris, are you sure that's the feeling you're getting? Are you sure it's not like…a scared feeling because something bad is creeping up on my horizon?"

"No, it's nothing like that, I know that feeling, it's not that at all."

"Okay," I know I'm relieved, I can hear it in my voice.

"I think you're right, it's just getting used to it, that's all."

"Good."

"So let's talk about tonight and you dancing on top of the table."

Oh yeah, Chris is definitely back.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, everyone, this story is so quickly gunning up my favorites to write and I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. So hope you enjoy and make God and all the angels happy by leaving a review. ;)

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"I'm dating Hunter now."

"As if I didn't know," Chris says and I swear he's rolling his eyes at me. I can't see him at the moment, and no, he hasn't disappeared again, and no, he's not some disembodied voice floating around my head, he's just behind me at the moment as I get ready for Raw.

"I just thought I would tell you, you know, common courtesy," I explain, though it feels like I'm going something else, but I won't admit what that something else is to anyone except myself. But maybe he knows, maybe his intuition is better than I could ever imagine. There is so much to Chris that I just don't know; he has such an unfair advantage over me.

"How is that common courtesy," he wonders, "I know who you go out with, I'm constantly around, it's not like the rest of the world is invisible to me, Steph."

Sometimes, against my better judgment, I wish the rest of world _was_ invisible to him. Ha, it's not enough his entire existence revolves around me, now I want everyone to be invisible on top of that. "Chris, do you look at other women?" I don't know where that question came from and I don't know how he'll answer that and great, now I really am trying to make him something he's not. I've got to get these feelings under control. I know what I'm starting to feel. Chris tells me I don't know my own feelings, but I know my feelings. I won't say them aloud and I'll try to push them out of my brain, but they're in there and the moment I voice them, I'm doomed.

"Well, of course I see other women," he tells me and I can see that he's genuinely confused about the question. "The world is filled with them."

He doesn't have desire, I remind myself, he's not your typical man. Hell, maybe he's not even a man, wait of course, he's not a man, he's an angel, which is beyond a man. He wears different things, though everything has a cross on it, go figure, but I don't think he has a closet somewhere. He probably just thinks the clothes and there they are, maybe it's just for my benefit. He's not trying to look good for anyone except maybe the big guy upstairs. But now I start to wonder what's underneath the clothes. I mean, I don't think he needs to use the bathroom and why would he? Are there really going to be bathrooms in heaven, little stalls with a girl angel and a boy angel on them? Maybe he's like the Ken dolls I had as a child, just nothing there, only a shapeless mass. He has no…need for those nether regions.

"Sorry, I know, I was just talking aloud to myself," I try and make the save, she shoots, she…misses, might as well go for the rebound. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

"You're gorgeous," he says nearly immediately and I feel like the glow he always has, has been transmitted to me. Then reality hits," Every one of God's creations are beautiful, even the evil ones who lose their way, God created them beautiful, but their choices made them ugly."

Oh. That's right. An angel isn't going to call me ugly. He sounded like a robot right then, like that answer was ingrained into his head under troubleshooting if your person starts to feel like they're ugly, just go ahead and remind them that all God's creatures are beautiful. I put on my cool face and casually say, "That's a really nice sentiment, I think a lot of people need to hear that so they can feel good about themselves." There another save for Stephanie McMahon.

"I just think I happened to luck out and got the most beautiful girl in the world."

I turn to him and he has that earnest "This is not bullshit" look on his face. He means it. I turn back around so he doesn't see that I'm beaming at his words, positively beaming. "You sure that thinking isn't going to get you in trouble with the boss?" I ask him playfully.

"If I have to turn into a rogue angel now, so be it," he says so nonchalantly that my smile gets wider.

"You also haven't seen every girl in the world."

"Don't need to, I know what I know."

"Chris?"

"What now?" he asks, acting like he's exasperated with the line of questioning.

No, Stephanie, don't do it! Don't do it! "What's underneath your clothes?" Oh great, you've don't it now. I don't dare look at him and for a moment, the room is so silent I'm sure he's left again, leaving me to feel humiliated and completely alone. Then I hear laughing, his laughing, that clear, beautiful laugh. I feel like I now understood the meaning to those Beatles lyrics, "There were bells on a hill, but I never heard them ringing, no I never heard them at all…'til there was you." I look back at him again and he was just laughing, but he wasn't laughing at me, just at the question. I had to laugh too, his was just so infectious.

"Wow, never thought I'd get asked that question."

"I was just curious," I explain.

"I'm built like a man, Stephanie," he tells me, "take from that what you will."

"But you don't…need those parts, what do you do with them?"

"They're just there," he laughs.

"Oh, okay," I say, blushing a little bit thinking about _those_ parts. How terrible to just have them there and never being able to use them in _that_ way.

"If you don't get ready, you're going to be late and since I've been around your father just as much as you have, I know how important being on time is, so would you stop picturing me naked and get ready?"

I'm blushing again and I quickly grab my powder, smattering it on my face to try and cover up the redness seeping into my skin. Thankfully, he doesn't materialize in front of me and ask why my makeup is no caked on my face so much that I look like a two dollar whore. I brush off some of the powder, sighing at the thoughts invading my head again. Why couldn't he be a man, a real man? But then if he was, if he looked like he does and walked around on the streets looking like that, there would be no chance for me. Some hot woman would have snatched him up and I'd meet him and have to see that godawful wedding ring and imagine what could have been. So maybe he just has to be mine in this way.

"I'm ready," I finish, puckering my lips together. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful as always," he tells me, knowing I was fishing for a compliment. I'm shameless sometimes, I know. There's a knock at the door and I look to it, wondering who's there and I look to Chris. "I can't see through doors, Stephanie."

I roll my eyes and go to the door, answering it. It's Paul and I smile. "Hey there, what are you doing here?"

"Well, I didn't know if you had a ride to the arena and being the great boyfriend that I am, I wanted to know if you wanted to ride with me?" he answers.

"That is very sweet of you," I let him know and it is very considerate of him to think of me like he is. If I can't…well to say that since Chris isn't…Paul is good for me is what I'm trying to say, I'm not settling for him or anything. Not that it would be settling per se because Chris is just my guardian angel.

"Remember what I said about all God's creations being beautiful, this guy _may_ be the exception." I nearly gasp because Chris's' voice is right next to my left ear and when I glance out of the corner of my eye, he _is_ right over my shoulder. I gasp a little and Paul looks at my strangely.

"Stop," I hiss.

"Are you okay?" Paul asks me. "Do you not want to go with me because that's okay."

"No, no, no, I'm good, let me just grab my purse and we can go."

"Are you sure, I don't want to force you or anything."

"I just don't get it, I mean, he's a good guy, I guess," Chris said, his head still right next to me and if he breathed, I'd feel it. As it is, if I squint a little, just a little and concentrate, I can pretend like I can actually feel his chin on my shoulder, like he's right there, like he could wrap his arms around me and hold me and I wouldn't have to just hear his voice, look, but not touch. I never realized how important touching was until I started paying attention to Chris. I still remember, with clarity only Chris could know, the feeling of reaching out to touch him and nothing being there. Never have I longed to touch something more than I wish I could touch him. Just hold his hand, that's all…

"Stephanie?"

I open my eyes wider. Paul is now looking at me again, studying my face. "Sorry, I'm just tired today, kind of dead on my feet."

"Don't blame you," Chris says, "being around Paul would bore me too."

"I don't blame you," Paul nearly echoes. "All this traveling really takes it wear and tear on you. Maybe you can skip the show tonight, I'm sure your dad will understand you taking one night off, one of his wrestlers, never, but you, I think he would make the allowance for you."

"Thanks, but no, I'm just one of you when he's at work," I tell him. "Let me just grab my purse."

I turn to grab my purse and I am aware that I just walked through Chris. He doesn't even notice or make a movement, but he turns to watch me. I grab my purse from the chair it was sitting on and then turn back to the door. Chris and Paul are both standing there and they're both looking at me. I just take a second to look at them both. Chris has that glow about him and he's smiling, but only halfway. The right side of his mouth it just turned up a little, ever so slightly. Paul is grinning at me. They're so different looking, but they both care about me, but…but is it really the way I want it, are things the way I want them?

No.

"Let's go," I tell Paul, pushing those thoughts away. The sooner I get off this silly idea about Chris, the sooner I'll be better off instead of entertaining these thoughts. What the hell can I do, go to God and ask him to please change Chris? Yeah, I don't know how to get an appointment with God unless I kill myself and this isn't Romeo and Juliet. Chris is my guardian angel and he'll just be there to protect me. I grab Paul's hand as I leave, letting the door close behind me. Chris is on my other side, just walking with us and I wish I could push him away, just shove him and that smirk off his face.

"You look really pretty tonight." It doesn't feel the same, I know this.

"Thanks." He kisses my temple. I smile because it's nice. It's a nice feeling to have someone and I lean into him a little bit and he wraps his arm around my shoulder. We head for the elevators and then downstairs and it's only then I see Sean Waltman and BG James. Oh great, I have to ride with them. Paul must have seen my face because he leans in to whisper to me, "It's okay if they come along, right? I'll make sure you get shotgun."

"Yeah, it's fine," I nod even though I would have rather it just be us.

"You're a liar," Chris sing-songs in my ear.

"Shh."

"Did I say something?" Paul asks.

"Oh no, sorry, just, shh, we don't want them to hear us talking about them."

"Oh come on, man," Sean says as we approach. "_This_ is what you kept us waiting for? We could've been gone already."

"She's not a this," Paul tells him and I like that he's defending me, I can't help it. "She's my girlfriend and she's coming with us."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, we know she's your girlfriend," Sean mutters, then speaks up. "Can we just get the hell out of here now?"

"Let's roll," Paul says geekily and Chris is laughing heartily.

"Who even _says_ that?" he says. Sean looks back to glare at me and I glare back at him as Paul holds me a little tighter. I look back at Chris and he's looking thoughtfully at the ground. I want to call for him, but I can't without drawing attention to myself. I try to pierce him with my gaze and he must feel it because he looks up and at me. His face is more serious now and then he looks at me and his face slowly lifts into a smile, a serene one as if there's some sort of calm falling over him, like stars falling around him. I'm stricken for a moment and he just stares at me and it's a look I've never seen him have before. It's concentrated and hard and piercing and him. What's he thinking about? Me? Well, probably, but what about me? Why is it so piercing?

I stop thinking and turn my head back around as Paul gently leads me out of the building. Chris is still looking, still staring at me, so much concentration on his face. I just wonder what he's thinking about, but I can't ask him and if I did, maybe he wouldn't tell me. I have to stop focusing so much on him, on these feelings that are inside me that can't come to fruition. I need to catch myself or I will fall…harder than I have fallen, I guess.

God, it's Stephanie, I need your help with something…


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, I love hearing people's thoughts on this story. I hope this chapter lives up to the prior ones and if you want to review, then by all means, click the button at the bottom. Hope you enjoy the chapter. :)

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The car ride is uncomfortable. I know that Paul's friends don't necessarily like me, but to have to be in such close proximity to them makes that dislike escalate. I can feel their eyes on me and Chris, though he's there somewhere, I can't see him. I have a feeling he's sitting in the back, hovering I guess, not sitting. I can't very well talk to him in this car full of people. Paul is tapping the steering wheel lightly, no real rhythm, just tapping, like he's as anxious to get out of this car as I am. I'm so tempted to see if Chris is actually sitting behind me, but if I look back there, I think I'll get glared at.

It's like these guys think that I stole Paul from them, but that's not true. I didn't steal anyone. I let Paul…let sounds like such a bad word. Paul spends plenty of time with his friends. I don't need to allow him to do anything. We're not so exclusive that I control his every move or even need to know where he is at all times. We've never even declared ourselves exclusive and I've never slept with the man. We're still trying to get to know each other and until I feel like I really know him, I'm not going to let him anywhere near my bed.

Plus there's the Chris factor. I know that it shouldn't have any bearing on what I choose to do with other men, but the fact that Chris is always there, it's kind of turned the act of sex into something…weird. I mean, I know he doesn't sit there and observe and take notes, he's not a voyeur, he's a guardian angel. His job is to protect me from harm, not to take sex tips from me. Chris probably has no interest in sex. He did say his…parts were just there, serving no real purpose except to create the facsimile of a human being. Still though, with these jumbled thoughts and feelings I've been having, the thought of doing something so physical in front of Chris is not appealing.

He's not talking right now either, which is strange. I figured he would be talking about how greasy Sean's hair is or how Paul is tapping nearly incessantly now, but he's not saying anything at all. Is he even back there? I don't think he's disappeared, he promised he wouldn't disappear on me again, ever. So he must still be there. Would he be in the trunk? But why would he need space anyways, he can't touch anything so he could just hover. I try to glance in the rearview mirror, maybe I can see him then, but Paul has it maneuvered to his liking and I can't see the backseat. Wait, my mirror. I pull down the visor in front of me and lift up the little flap a tiny light coming on.

"Steph, babe, sorry, but could you close that, it's a little distracting," Paul asks.

"Oh, sorry," I tell him, closing it up and pushing the visor back up.

"Little princess has to be beautiful," I hear a muttering behind me. I know it's Sean's voice. It was low enough to for me to hear, but not loud enough for Paul to hear and I think that's just Sean's intention. If he appears to like me, then everything is okay between him and Paul and Paul is his meal ticket. It's not a stretch to say that Paul is going places. He's already one of the top guys and he's only going to rise higher and higher. Sean's been around forever and is still someone's lackey. He'll only ever be someone's lackey so he might as well ride the best coattails he could find.

"You look beautiful already," Paul told her and she smiled. If only he knew she wasn't going to look at herself, but look for Chris. She expected Chris to say something to that, some snide comment, but there's nothing whispering in my ear about the cheesiness of that statement.

I try not to let the bolt of fear ride through me as I think about Chris disappearing again. I didn't tell him to disappear, he wouldn't, right? Then why isn't he talking? He usually doesn't shut up unless I really need to be paying attention to something. Is there something I really need to be paying attention to? What if there's going to be a car accident? Someone could run out into the street and Paul would have to swerve and we could hit a street post or something, the car tangling into twisted and unrecognizable metal. I tense up, looking around, darting my eyes for any danger.

"Be careful on the road, Paul," I tell him, just as a precaution. He glances over at me and I want to yell at him to keep his eyes on the road. Oh God, what if _I'm_ the cause. He needs to stop staring at me. "Keep your eyes on the road."

"Sorry," he said, looking back at the road, the car having swerved just the tiniest bit into the other lane. I grab the handle over the car door, just to steady myself. I'm feeling so tense right now. I can see the arena in the distance, but it still seems so far away. There's a lot of space between here and there and so many things can happen.

"It's okay," his voice and I close my eyes. "Nothing is going to happen to you."

When did his voice become such a comfort to me? Why is it now that I hear it and it doesn't creep me out or scare me, but fill me with such a calm that I suddenly feel like I'm floating? Is it possible to fall for a person just because of their voice? Wait, no, not a person, an angel. Perspective, Stephanie, you need to keep your perspective. Still, his voice calms me down enough to where my hand drops from the handle and I'm okay and the arena looms close and I know nothing is going to happen to me. Chris would lie, Chris can't lie.

When we finally arrive, I don't think Sean can get away from me fast enough. There's only the problem that I'm still with Paul so there's no real escaping him or any of the members of Paul's little posse. BG keeps looking at me distrustfully, like I'm going to steal Paul away at any moment, but seriously, even if we were in a serious relationship, I'm not going to restrict his friendships. What do they take me for? I know everyone sees me as Daddy's little girl, the princess of the company, but I'm still a human being. We come up to the DX locker room for the evening, where they're going to be stationed.

I stop in front and lean against the wall as Paul stops too. "I guess I should let you be for the evening until we have to do stuff together," I tell him, closing my eyes then laughing a little at my choice of words.

"Do stuff together? I think I like the sound of that," he says, pressing his fingers to my chin and tilting my head towards him. I open my eyes and he's right there in front of me, his face taking up my vision. "What kind of _stuff_ did you have in mind?"

"Not the kind of stuff you're thinking, I don't think," I tell him and he knows I'm not ready for any of that yet and, being the perfect gentleman he has been, he understands it. I'm grateful for that. Paul really is a wonderful guy. I'm really lucky to have him. He's real, he's real and he's here and I can feel him and touch him and I never thought being able to touch someone would be a major qualifier for a relationship, but there are a lot of things I can't explain about my world and life in general.

Before Chris, before I acknowledged him, I don't really think I believed in this whole God concept. I don't know, my parents just weren't very religious, they mostly believed in the religion of hard work. I guess I should've believed, what with this strange being hovering around me all my life, but I don't know, maybe I just thought Chris was a ghost or something. But now, I can't deny the presence of this all-powerful being and even though I feel like I understand more than the average person, there's still so much I _don't_ understand. Like I don't understand why God, this merciful and loving God (from what I hear about him) would make me fall or whatever it is with Chris of all beings. There must be an end game.

Chris says that God lets us make our own decisions, but surely he would step in if I were to fall in love with an _angel_. The worst part is I can't go ahead and talk to God, I can't book an appointment and ask him about it. Even if I talked to God, as Chris says is okay, Chris would _hear_ and I don't think he knows about my feelings. I hope he doesn't at least because I'll be so embarrassed. I don't know if he necessarily feels pity, but it might be a first for him if he knew that there were feelings from me to him that were decidedly not angel-like in their existence.

"That's too bad," Paul says and I almost forgot he was still there. He's leaning closer now and I stand up on the balls of my feet a little to make his reach a little shorter. I'm not resisting to his kisses. In fact, I like them, and in another dimension, where I'm completely alone, I would think them perfect. I wouldn't be thinking about whether or not Chris would be a good kisser. I'd really imagine he'd have to be, what with being an angel and being created in God's perfection.

"For you, maybe," I tell him, leaning forward and pressing my lips to his again. He deepens the kiss and I allow him to, feeling his tongue parting my lips. I allow him access into my mouth, wrapping my arms around his neck as he pulls me closer. I'm not usually one for public displays of affection, but if I'm going to let go of this silly idea of me and Chris, then I have to immerse myself in what is real. Not that Chris isn't real, but something real and tangible and that will work out. What kind of relationship could a woman have with an angel? None, that's what.

He pulls away, breathless and with his eyes shining as he searches my own. I curl my lips up into a smile and he gives me a lazy one back, reaching up to run his thumb under my lip, probably to get some of the smeared lip gloss up. "You're amazing," he whispers to me and I like hearing it. It's nice to hear compliments from someone you like, someone you're dating.

"You're pretty amazing too," I whisper back, but in the back of my mind, I'm wondering where Chris is. He's probably behind me, not watching so I can have a little bit of privacy.

"Thanks," he tells me. "I better get in there though, I think the guys will riot if I don't."

"Let them riot," I tell him, pulling him down for another heart-stopping kiss. He's a pretty good kisser, one of the better ones of the guys I've kissed, not that there have been many. He pull away first this time and wink at him, "That was just something to tide you over until we see each other again. I've got work to do though, my dad wants me to go over some financial documents."

"You know, I don't take you for the accounting type."

"That's why I'm trying to get my dad to let me broaden my horizons backstage," I tell him. "Later, Paul."

"Later."

I turn and start to walk away and there is Chris and he was behind me. He lets me walk past him and then he's beside me, probably materialized right next to me. I glance over at him a couple times and it's like he knows when I'm going to do that because when I do, he almost immediately turns and smiles at me. I guess he just feels me turning and then turns and I smile at him and I hope nobody is watching me smile into thin air. I have to be more careful at shows. I don't want people thinking I belong in a padded cell.

I make it to my office and lift up my briefcase, taking out the papers I need for the evening. It isn't until an hour later that I notice the quiet. In fact, Chris has been quiet for quite a while now. I look up and he's sitting there on the couch, just staring at the ground. I wonder if someone is talking to him, some higher being and he just has to listen and not talk. Maybe God is berating him for what he said earlier about me being the prettiest girl in the world to him. Maybe God didn't like that, that one of his angels would be so bold.

"Chris, are you in trouble?"

He looks up at me and he narrows his eyes a little, confusion tinging his cheeks, "In trouble?"

"With God?"

"Why would I be in trouble with God?"

"Because of what you said earlier, you know, about me being the prettiest girl in the world, are you in trouble?"

"No, I'm not in trouble with God," Chris tells me, shaking his head. "I think God has a lot more to worry about than what I think about my charge."

"Your charge," I mutter to myself. I hate that word, it sounds so informal. The least he could've done was say friend, but I guess that we're not exactly friends, but that I _am_ his charge. Nothing more, nothing less. "Well, I'm glad you're not in trouble."

"What's wrong with the word charge?" he asks and I forget that he probably has super hearing.

"What?"

"You said charge like it was a bad thing, that's what you are, you're my charge."

"Well, I don't know, I just thought, maybe it would be more appropriate if you called me your friend or something, it just doesn't sound as…impersonal," I respond. I don't want him to see me as something he's obligated to. He was made for me, that makes him special. Unless he's not special.

"Okay, you're my friend," he indulges me. "So what's the other question you had on your mind? I've known you for your entire life, Stephanie, don't give me that look, I know when you want to ask something."

"Is there someone that looks like you in the world? Like does God make a human copy of the angels, like is there an angel that looks like me?"

"No, we're all unique, there's nobody that looks like me and there's nobody that looks like you."

"Good." I like the idea that he's all mine. "So you're not in trouble for what you said."

"Stephanie, there are wars, diseases, famine, poverty that God has to contend with. He can't do everything because well, there are things in this world that you nor anyone else could possibly understand. I can't reveal these things to you, but just…there's a balance to life, every life, for every good, bad, it's just how the world…I've revealed too much as it is. But no, I'm not in trouble with anyone."

"Okay, just making sure."

"Trust me, one comment does not a heavenly law break."

We fall back into silence and again, more time passes until the show is actually starting and he's still being quiet. "Why are you so quiet tonight? You weren't quiet earlier and now you're being like a statue, just sitting there, staring at the ground," I break the silence. I just can't take it anymore. He usually talks to me and keeps me occupied and now he's just sitting there.

"Sorry?" he says, probably for lack of anything better to say. "I wasn't aware I was your baby-sitter and had to keep you entertained."

I groan, "It's not about that, it's not about keeping me entertained, but you've been silent all evening and it's not like you to be that quiet, not around me, well, not that you can be around anyone else, but you didn't even comment on any of the cheesy comments that Paul was throwing my way and that's not like you because you _always_ comment on it because you don't like him."

"I never said I didn't like him."

"I think it's pretty clear."

"I like him, he's a human being, I like him."

"Oh yeah, obligation or whatever," I say snottily. "Could you see me marrying him? Do you think he could be the one? Can you see that into the future?"

He furrows his brow, "No, no, I can't see that far into the future."

"Fine," I say, "so why are you being so quiet?"

"I'm just thinking."

"What are you thinking?" I ask him.

"Nothing that you need to be concerned about," he tells me and I just stare at him. I get the feeling he's lying, but why would he lie to me, he can't lie to me, surely _that_ breaks some sort of heavenly law. Isn't that one of the Ten Commandments, thou shalt not lie or something? It must be in there somewhere.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive, just go back to work and stop worrying about me sitting here. If you want, I'll throw out a quip about Paul every hour on the hour, like that line about how you're beautiful the way you are, what, did he get that out of a book on how to score women or something?" Chris says and I smile. That's the Chris I've come to know.

"I thought it was sweet."

"You would."

"Chris, you were really just thinking about nothing."

"Yes, Stephanie, it's nothing, I promise."


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews. I'm so happy this story is so well-liked, it's pretty awesome and I hope that you like the next installment of this craziness and reviews are loved and appreciated. :)

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"You're driving me crazy!"

He looks up at me in surprise. It's probably because we haven't spoken in two hours and I can't take it anymore. It's like he took some kind of vow of silence and it's almost as bad as not having him here at all. It's like he's changed over the past week and I can't figure out why he would be acting like this unless something is seriously wrong, but it's not like I can twist his arm and make him tell me. I would too, if it weren't for the fact that he's kind of one of God's personal friends and I don't want the reason I go to hell to be getting into a fight with an angel.

"What?" he asks and looks over at me like I've grown two heads. I don't think he sees _that_ in his future, lucky for me.

"You are different, when you left me for that time, did you get a personality change?" I ask him sarcastically.

"I didn't go anywhere!" he exclaims, laughing a little at my outburst. "Where is this coming from? I didn't leave you. You know that. You know that I'm here all the time whether you can see me or not."

"Well maybe you had a temp come in and you went and asked God for a personality change!"

"A temp? You think that there are temporary angels, that I'm just going to hand you off to someone else for a little while. Stephanie, I don't need vacations, this isn't a job for me, this is my life. My existence is to protect you and make sure your life goes the way that God and you have planned. That is my purpose for being here. I don't leave you."

"Well maybe God beamed at you or something," I tell him angrily. I want the Chris back from before he left. I'm not fond of this Chris, he's not the Chris that I…that I like is all. He's not the Chris that I like. "Do you know what your silence does to me?"

"What does it do to you?" he asks curiously, tilting his head a little. I can see him in the mirror. Funny how I can't touch the guy, but he has a reflection. Sometimes, when he's curious, he reminds me of a little boy, trying to learn and soak up everything around him. There's so much of the world he doesn't understand and so much of the world I don't understand and we're always at this weird crossroads and it's annoying and breathtaking at the same time.

"It worries me," I answer him, grabbing a hairbrush from my vanity and brushing my hair. I'd grown tired of just sitting there looking in the mirror after sitting there and watching the TV and sitting there and sitting there and having him be silent and me being silent and only the TV and he's driving me nuts! I'm clearly going crazy. I thought I was going crazy just seeing Chris, like I'd lost my min, but I know now that this is what is going to make me lose my mind. Falling, as I am, for Chris is going to be my undoing.

"Why does it worry you? I'm still here," he reasons and he just doesn't get it. He must worry though, he must worry about me. His entire life, if you can call it a life, is to protect me. If I'm walking down the street, he must look around and be worried that something's coming. Or wait, no, because he can see what's going to happen, maybe he _doesn't_ get what worry is. Well, in that case, it complicates the entire thing.

"Do you worry, Chris?"

I stare at him through the mirror. It's nice to have this barrier between us but I need to see him so I get up and go sit on my bed. He was lying down on it, well, hovering, again, I don't know, he can't really feel anything, like with touch so who knows what he's actually doing. The mattress doesn't sink when he's on it so he must be hovering or materializing, whichever. I'm cross-legged as he looks over at me. His brow is furrowed a little bit and it's such intense concentration and it's like he sees something in front of him, like his eyes are watching a movie and it's a thinker and it's perplexing him.

"Worry how?" he finally asks.

"Like, do you worry about things in general, anything, me? I mean, you know what's going to happen to me so I guess you don't worry, but do you…can you worry?"

"I'm not sure."

"Well, okay, I worry when you're quiet because when you're quiet it feels like this…oppressive silence or something," I explain to him, but the words are jumbled and they don't make sense to me. Maybe they make sense to him because he understands me better than anyone. "I just…before you were talking to me all the time, making your stupid quips and comments, but now you've gone silent and the change in you is frustrating to me."

"There's no change," he tells me confusedly and he must not get it.

"You know when you read me and you can tell when I'm angry or upset?"

"Yeah."

"Well I can tell there's something going on with you, what aren't you telling me?"

"Well, there's a lot I'm not telling you…"

"That's not what I mean." Sometimes talking to him is like a brick wall. "I mean, there's something that's changed, what is it? Is something wrong with me? Am I sick, should I go to the doctor's? Am I going to be in an accident? I think it's only fair that you tell me because I can see you. I'm special, I can see my guardian angel so that probably means you should tell me what's going to happen."

He laughs at me and it is a pretty ridiculous statement, "Stephanie, I can't tell you what's going to happen to you, that takes the fun out of life. You have what you need."

"Am I dying?"

"You're not dying," he assures me.

"Why have you changed? Are you…" I have an idea in my head, but it's silly and he'll laugh at me and God, part of me is laughing at myself for having such a dumb question in my brain. The other half, the irrational in love with an angel half wants me to ask because if I ask and there's some inkling of feeling within him, I know that I can cling to that small piece of him that I can have, like when he called me the prettiest girl in the world. I only have words that I can take with me. I can't touch him or hold him, but I can have his words.

"Am I what? Are you going to ask me if I go to the bathroom or something?" he joked.

"No," I say while rolling my eyes. That's the Chris I know and love, which makes this question seem even stranger.

"Then what is it? I'm not taking off my clothes to show you what's underneath."

My cheeks start burning and I can feel that burn going all the way up to my ears. I look down, trying not to picture that and trying not to insert myself into that picture. That's unlikely to happen. Unless I die and then we can be together. Wow, that's way too morbid to think about, dying just so I can be with my angel? Could I be any more pathetic? Nobody should _want_ to die so they can touch something. I can feel Chris leaning in closer. It's a bit strange that I can feel his presence when he doesn't really have anything solid to _be_ present. I look up and he has that warm look on his face, the one that draws you in and makes you feel like this isn't some demon or ghost in front of you, but an honest-to-God angel.

"Ask me the question you want to ask," he says, leaning down a little so we can meet eye-to-eye.

That look, it sucks you in and makes you want to give in to anything. If this is how all angels look, heaven help us…but I think it's just Chris. Surely, if there's as big a variety of angels as there is a variety of people, there must be some…homely angels. Whereas he thinks I'm the prettiest girl, I think that he's probably the hottest angel there is and he's all mine.

"Are you jealous?" I spit out quickly as quickly as my breath will allow me.

"Jealous?" he asks. "Jealous of what?"

"I mean…" How do I get out of this, how do I get out of this, how do I get out of this! I need to make a save, but nothing is coming to my mind. I'm a quick thinker, this should not be so difficult. "Of…being human?"

"You think I want to be human?"

"Yes!" I exclaim and then scale it back. "I mean, do you ever want to be human, you know, experience human things, I mean, you must see a bunch of stuff, you know, swimming, wrestling, dancing, having sex, hiking, climbing…"

"I don't need to experience those things."

"But do you want to?" I wonder if he caught the having sex part, I wonder if he wants that. He's had to have seen me, as creepy as that is. He must have seen was maybe curious.

"I don't know," he shrugs and I almost feel like pressing it further, but there's something telling me I shouldn't. "So you think I'm jealous of the living? Have I been giving off that kind of vibe because-"

"Oh no, I mean, I was just, can you feel jealous?"

"I don't know what jealous feels like," he answers. "What does it feel like?"

How can I even explain that emotion? "Haven't you seen me being jealous?"

"Well sure, I've _seen_ you being jealous, but how the hell am I supposed to know what it _feels_ like?"

"Well if you don't know then you've obviously never felt it!" I'm angry. I don't know why I'm angry, but I want him to be jealous. I want a _reason_ for the way he's acting and he's not telling me and I need a reason. I need to know _why_ he's changed!

I get up and storm out of the room and down the hallway and down into the kitchen to get myself a glass of water. I'd rather have a glass of scotch, but I don't even want to know what Chris will say if he sees me drinking alone. He'll probably start spouting off about how drinking alone is a sign of alcoholism or something and that's the last thing I need. I grab a glass and turn to the fridge, pressing down the button for the water. I turn around and nearly jump as he's right there. I forgot he could just vaporize or whatever wherever he wants. Damn him.

"Okay, what was with _that_ just now?" he asks me, tilting his head in question.

"Nothing," I say, taking a sip of my water and acting as nonchalantly as I can.

"That was _not_ nothing. If I had a tangible head, you'd be ripping it off right now."

"Well then it would be my choice, right, not God's, not yours, _mine_."

"Yeah," he says, rolling his eyes a little.

"Don't roll your eyes at me!" I catch him. "How can you feel annoyance? Isn't it one of the bad things that you're not supposed to feel?"

"Well, I'm pretty annoyed by you right now," he tells me.

"Well, I'm annoyed by _you_!"

"Because I can't feel jealousy?"

"No…I don't know, leave me alone!"

"I can't do that," Chris tells me and I groan in frustration. I don't want him to disappear again, but I can't take him right now. If I go into another room, he'll be there, if I go upstairs, he'll be there. If I go to the bathroom, he'll be there. If I go _anywhere_, he'll be there. I take a deep breath to calm myself. I want him to be jealous, but I'm prescribing human emotions on him when he's not human.

"Can you just not talk to me then?"

"Isn't that what got you mad in the first place?" he asks me slowly, like he knows he's treading on very thin ice with me right now. He knows how to handle me because he's been around me so long. I rub my temples a little, willing myself not to blow up at him.

"Are you jealous of Paul?" Where did that come from? I can't escape and now he's staring at me and it's this open, blank look and he must think I'm the world's weirdest chick. How could he not, I'm standing here asking him if he's jealous of someone.

"Paul? Your boyfriend Paul?"

"Yes, my boyfriend, Paul."

"Because he's human?"

"Maybe, yeah."

"Or because he's with you?" Chris asks the million dollar question. "Do you think I'm jealous of Paul because he's with you and that's why I've not been saying anything lately, because I'm jealous?"

"Well, you haven't been talking," I let him know, "ever since I really started dating Paul, you've kind of closed yourself off to me. You said there's nothing to worry about with him or at least that's what I'm getting from the things you've said and the vibe you give off when we're around him. So I'm thinking and wondering if maybe I don't know, you were jealous of him."

"Because he's human? And because he's with you?"

"In general," I shrug, trying to pay this off like I'm not wanting him in a way I shouldn't want a celestial being.

"I'm not jealous," Chris tells me.

"But you don't _know_ what that feeling is, so how do you know? You just asked me earlier."

"So tell me what it is then?"

"It's when you want something you can't have. It's when someone has something you want. It's this burning inside, this fire that you can't just put out and all you want is what that other person has, it's _all_ you want. It can consume you and fill you. And no matter what you do, you can't have that person…or thing that you want. It's like, you would give anything to be with that…to have that."

He listens intently, like we're in class and I'm his teacher. "What an interesting concept," he says lowly, like he's talking to himself and not to me. "What an interesting idea."

He sits there and sits there and I'm staring at him. What is he thinking? Who is he communicating with? Is he processing what I'm saying, looking within himself and seeing if this is something that he feels. I want to reach out and touch him, so badly. _I'm_ jealous of the other angels of anything or anyone that can be with him, touch him. I want those things so much and I can reach out, but there's nothing really there.

"So are you?"

He looks down and I take the moment to really watch him. He looks like he's breathing, but he's probably just mimicking the behavior. But maybe he breathes in angel dust or something, I don't know. It's such a simple gesture, this breathing, this inhalation and exhalation of air. When he does it though, it's like he makes it an art form. Finally, he looks back up at me with that easy smile.

"No."


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, I love seeing what people think of this story. Anyways, I know some of you have been clamoring for an update, so I hope the wait was worth it. If you want to leave a review, I won't stop ya, enjoy! :)

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No. _No_. **No. **_**NO!**_

He's killing me. He is absolutely killing me. I mean, I wasn't entirely sure what I was expecting when I asked if he was jealous. Best case scenario would have been him admitting that he was jealous or that he at least felt _something_ when I told him about jealousy and all that. I shouldn't have expected more. What do I think is going to happen? That he'll confess his undying love for me? I can't even touch him so it wouldn't work in the first place. Even if we loved each other, we're not both human.

I just, I want him to _feel_ something for me other than me being his charge or duty or worst of all, job. I know he loves me, that's not the problem, but he's _supposed_ to love me. He was created for me so of course he loves me. I just want him to love me in a way that is not entirely chaste or innocent. But what's the point in the end? I can't have anything with him. I should just forget him and move on and be with Paul. I know if I ask Chris to leave again that he will and then I may finally be able to move on, it's just…I don't want him to go.

"Did you know if you think too hard that you start to lose part of your brain?" Chris tells me from where he's lounging (I guess that's what you can call it, he's not doing anything and he's "sprawled" over one of my chairs). I look over at him in curiosity.

"You do?"

Chris starts laughing and I scowl, "No!" he guffaws. "I'm kidding with you, come on, did you really think that you would start to lose part of your brain?"

"Shut up," I tell him. I don't think it's funny that he's teasing me, especially at a time like this when I feel so conflicted. Sure, he doesn't know why I'm so conflicted, but surely he can sense there's something wrong.

"You shouldn't tell an angel to shut up," he tells me and I look at him, eyebrow raised. "I've got connections, remember?" He points up towards the ceiling and raises both eyebrows.

"Yeah, like you're going to go run and tell God on me."

"I could, you know," he responds and he has me curious. "I mean, I'm not sure I'm necessarily supposed to tell you _all_ our secrets because you're a very nosy girl, but if I wanted to go talk to God, I could do it in the blink of an eye, literally. I didn't want to say anything because I liked to keep up the whole angel mystique and everything, but if you're up there, time is inconsequential."

"I thought you weren't supposed to leave me."

"Would you believe there's a temp that comes in?" he asks and he's obviously joking, although the idea of a temp angel is kind of funny.

"No."

"Ahh, so you're not as gullible as you seem," he says, "but seriously, it takes one nanosecond, so infinitesimal a moment that you would never know I was gone."

"I think you're lying. What about that saying that things can happen in the blink of an eye?"

"Yeah, did God come up with that saying? Didn't think so," he points out to me. "Stephanie, there are a lot of things about me that you're not going to know or understand, it's better to just be simple about things. You ask too many questions."

"Because I'm sorry I want to _know_ things!" I snap at him.

He's so calm sometimes and it always reminds me that he can't feel everything I can. If I let my ire rise up, he's just going to stay his calm self with that stupid calm demeanor and then I'm going to blow my lid and he'll laugh at me or even worse, go to heaven or wherever and put this on my permanent record. Then someday, when I die, they're going to pull out the file and "arguing with your angel" is going to be right at the top of the list and I'll be damned if I have to see his smug face at that moment while I'm waiting for entrance into the heavenly gates. I take a deep breath.

"Stephanie, there are things in this universe that you aren't going to understand, there are things that I'm not going to understand-"

"Like feeling," I interject.

"Like feeling," he agreed. "That's just how God has decided that things are going to work, but you have to trust in him."

"Don't you want to know those feelings that you miss?"

"You can't miss something you've never had."

"Have you ever wanted to be human?"

"No, too complicated and messy."

"Complicated and messy?"

I'm aghast at the way he said that. It wasn't with contempt or derision, he's not capable of that. It's not condescending, though I could easily turn it that way. It's just…sad that he thinks that. I'm sad that he thinks that. Yes, being human means that you're fraught with mistakes and choices and things do get sticky and there are highs and there are lows, but damn it, it's living and it's breathing and it's being in the moment and it's everything, really. It's nothing and it's everything and if it wasn't anything and if it was complicated and messy, then why did they all need protecting during it?

"Yes, you know how it is."

"No, I'm not sure," I tell him, wanting him to explain.

"Look at how angry you get or how depressed you get, look at other people, walking around, thinking their lives suck, it's no way to be," he says and I think I hate him in this moment, but then, he just doesn't know.

"Chris," I start, but then I stop, get up, walk over to the bed, sit on it and scoot as close to him as I can without sitting _in_ him, which would be weird. I don't know why I always give him space, I could probably just sit on his invisible hand, but I just…it'd be too weird so I sit close enough to see his eyes, but not close enough to where it's weird. "You have no idea what living is like."

"I think I know a thing or two."

"You just know about what you see," I tell him. "I know you can feel emotions, but you only feel the good ones and sometimes…sometimes you _have_ to feel the bad ones to appreciate the good ones. You've never felt any of it so you don't know. But God, Chris, if you did. I mean, yes, breaking up with someone, it's horrible and you feel awful, especially if you thought the person was the one. But then you find this other person and you fall in love and it makes it all so much sweeter because you went through all the crap to get there."

"So the bad stuff is then good?"

"I guess if you want to look at it that way. I mean, you're an angel, of course you're going to want to stay an angel," I say, even though it pains me to say it because _I_ don't want him to be an angel. "But then, on the other hand, if you asked me to be an angel, I would have to turn you down because I like living."

"Fair enough," he tells me in that even tone of his. "So what's got you thinking so hard?"

He certainly is an expert at changing subjects, unfortunately this is one subject I can't broach with him. I sigh and lay down on the bed, facing him. "Just life, you know. I mean, you wouldn't know since you're an angel and we're all complicated and messy, but I guess mostly about Paul."

"He's been good to you," Chris points out to me and I look at him strangely. He must know what I'm thinking though because he continues, "Stephanie, I may think the guy is boring and not worthy of you, but he's still been good to you. He's been really good to you."

The only thing I latch onto in that sentence is the fact he thinks that Paul isn't worthy of me. I stretch that line in my head. I want to read Chris's body language, but I'm not entirely sure how to do that because his body is really just…it's an illusion is what it is. It's not real, I mean, it is _real_, but it's like, a vessel and he can't even feel certain things so body language is obsolete. Still, I look at that part of a sentence, that tiny segment and I work it over and over in my mind, looking at it from different angles. No matter which way I look at it, it's still the same sentence."

"You don't think he's worthy of me?" I ask, hope flittering in my chest, just a gentle rustle, but it's there just the same.

"Um, no, I believe I've told you this before," he says, tapping his chin playfully, like he's really thinking.

"But…but, why?" I try not to sound too eager, but maybe my face is giving me away. I wonder if that's one advantage of being an angel. I wonder if they know what they look like. I sometimes wish I could just see myself how others see me, if only for a moment. I want to guard my emotions, but I fear I put them all over my face and body, smearing them around like body paint.

"Are you kidding me with this one?" he scoffs. "I'm sorry, it's not like I don't like the guy. I like the guy, he's…he's good to you and he respects you and he treats you like a lady and he acts like a gentleman, which is more than I can about some of the guys I've seen out there who have looked at you like you're some kind of candy they want to eat or something."

"Guys out there?"

"Stephanie, I notice things that you don't notice," Chris tells me.

"You notice when other guys notice me?" I'm trying so hard not to smile right now, but I can feel the corners of my mouth tugging up.

"Yes, I notice when other guys notice you," answers Chris, "you think that I don't observe everything in your general vicinity. You have a lot of guys who would like to use you indelicately."

It's the way he says indelicately that nearly makes me melt. There's something so debonair and innocent in the way he says it. It's the fact that he uses the word indelicate, like I'm something to be treasured. I know he treasures me, but there's a masculinity behind it too that I can't readily explain. I _want_ him to love me like that and perhaps I'm projecting, but it feels good to hear him say things that a man would say to the woman he loved. It's with a passion he says these things and though it might not be a passion I need, it's still a passion.

"But you think Paul is not worthy of me."

"To be quite frank, I haven't found one single man in your life that you've ever interacted with for more than two seconds to be worthy of you."

I feel like I'm being lit from the inside, like there's a hearth fire burning inside me and the warmth radiates out of my skin, but doesn't burn me. "Not a single one."

"Not a single one." Chris nods his head. "I don't know, I mean, Paul is good to you and he's good for you, you know, after some of the duds you insist on dating, but he's certainly not worthy of you."

"_Is_ there someone worthy of me?" I know I'm hinting, but at this point, I could probably care less. "I mean, surely there's someone who is supposed to be worthy of me. I'm not supposed to be alone right. I don't think it would be going against the boss if you just tell me if there's someone worthy out there for me. I mean, just a hint or something?"

He appears to be thinking for a moment and it's like he's looking at something I can't see and I wonder if he's peering into my future right now. "I can't tell you that."

"Oh," I say, disappointed. "I mean, all you'd have to-"

"Stephanie, I can't tell you your future, okay?" he says and it's almost like he snaps at me, but surely he couldn't snap at me, he's an angel, he's not supposed to get mad at me. I clear my throat a little, embarrassed, and then try to change the subject. "You really think that nobody has been worthy of me yet? Why do you think that?"

"Because you're you."

"What do you mean by that?" I can feel something welling in my throat and I might choke on it if I'm not careful.

"Have you seen yourself, Stephanie?" This is the most "human" I think he's ever been. He feels different.

"I don't know what you mean?" I prod.

"You're beautiful for one," he starts.

"You have to think I am."

"You're the most beautiful girl in the world," he tells me, continuing on, "you're smart and you're funny and you've got this temper thing going that gives you depth and everything. You're pretty amazing is what I'm saying so no, no guy has ever been worthy of you."

I think there is one guy actually…


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, glad you're enjoying this crazy story and hope you enjoy this probably crazy chapter. If you want to review, that'd be great, thanks. :)

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"You look happy today."

I turn to Paul and he's smiling at me and I'm already smiling back because I don't think I've stopped smiling since last night. The words, the sentences, the phrases, nouns, verbs, subjects, everything, all of it has me feeling like I'm on top of the world. I shouldn't let myself get up for this, but those are the nicest words anyone, human or otherwise, has ever said to me. I just let them light me up and everyone is noticing it and I don't care.

"I feel happy today," I tell him with that same stupid smile on my face.

"What's got you in this mood?"

If I tell him an angel told me things he's never said to me before, I think he'll react in a negative way so I just say, "Can't a person be in a good mood?"

"What _has_ got you in a good mood?" another voice interjects just over my right shoulder. I glance to the side quickly and see it's Chris. He's just hanging out right behind me and though I can't physically feel him, his presence engulfs me more than it ever has. I feel like he is just surrounding me like the most delightful haze. It's almost like a drug; he's almost like a drug.

"Yeah, I guess you can, but usually they have a reason," Paul says.

"Shows what he knows," Chris tells me and I smirk. For the first time in a while, he feels like the Chris that I first acknowledged, the sarcastic, snarky angel that he was made to be. "Someone can be in a good mood just because, but I know, because I _know_ you that there is something up your sleeve. You're in a good mood for a reason."

"I just don't have a reason, that's all," I say more to Chris than to Paul. Paul doesn't seem to notice though, but Chris is now in front of me, looking at me and almost making a face at me. "Maybe my reason is because I'm here with you."

My eyes are locked with Chris's when I say this. I know he can't necessarily feel what I feel and his love is different from my love. I don't think he is capable of falling in love. I was thinking about that, maybe he just isn't built to fall _in_ _love_. Angels have a job to do and they're not going out on dates with other angels. Chris is made for me so he probably just can't fall in love, unfortunately, but that doesn't mean that I can't feel for him. Even if we can never be, I know he's always going to be here with me and that has to be enough for now, until I find the human that can make me feel the way he does.

Still, my eyes are locked with his when I speak and I hope that he gets that it's about him. He makes me so happy and at the very least, I hope he's happy that he can do that for me. He seems to know because his eyes light up. He's smiling at me and it's as if I can see heaven in his face. Now, normally, I wouldn't think something as cheesy as this, but the guy is an angel and if ever I were to see heaven on earth, wouldn't it be with an angel? His face glows and I did that, I made his face like that and I duck my head a little, embarrassed.

"That's sweet," Paul says, kissing my cheek and bringing me back to reality. It's sweet that he thinks that it's because of him that I'm smiling and being in a good mood, but it's not him that's doing it for me. "You put me in a good mood too."

"Oh, oh, yeah, do I?" I ask, trying to tear my eyes away from where Chris is just staring at me. I just don't understand how he can't fall in love. How do you not know that feeling? How could I even explain to him to see if he does feel it? It's not something tangible, with a clear definition, it's not colors or textures, it's just there and you feel it and you know it when it happens. I wish I could figure out the words, just to see if maybe…but he probably doesn't.

"You know it," Paul says and then stops me from walking. I turn to him, not necessarily because I want to, but he turns me towards him. Chris is now to my right and I keep staring at him as he stares at Paul.

"What is this guy going to do now?" Chris asks with a laugh. "I swear, Steph, I think you have the worst taste in men, it's something you just never listen to me about. You'd think you would listen since I know you, but nope, you never do."

I roll my eyes at him, but then Paul's fingers gingerly touch my chin and he turns me to face him. "Hey, you want to look at me for a second?"

"Sorry," I let him know, sensing that he has something to say and he kind of wants to say it to my face and not the side of my head.

"You were distracted for a second there, you with me now?"

"Yeah, I'm right here, didn't go anywhere."

"I just want you to know how happy I've been with you," he tells me genuinely, his mouths curving up into a smile. I smile weakly back at him. I know that my feelings for him aren't as deep as his feelings for me. There's no way he knows that he's competing with a celestial being that has been with me since the moment I was born. Chris doesn't even know he's competing for my affections.

"That's nice," I say and it is, he's very nice and I do enjoy my time with him.

"Are you happy?"

"What?" I ask. I've started to turn my head a little to my right, just to see what Chris is doing. He's leaning against the wall, or appearing to lean against the wall, arms crossed in front of him as he watches the exchange. I just catch him shaking his head when Paul steps a little in front of me.

"What are you looking at?" he wonders, looking over his shoulder. Chris makes a funny face at him and I laugh, ducking my head, my forehead touching Paul's shoulder. "Stephanie, what's so funny?"

"Nothing," I snicker. I shoot Chris a look trying to tell him to stop, but he's not. He just keeps making faces and I'm trying to hold in my laughter.

"Okay, someone's got a case of the giggles," Paul seems a little hurt that I don't seem to be paying attention to him so I try my best to focus on him and not on Chris, even though I think Chris is trying his best to make sure that I pay attention to him and not Paul.

"Sorry, sorry, I really am, I just don't know what's with me today," I try to recover and Paul seems to buy it.

"I just want you to know that I think I'm falling-"

"Yo, Paul!" We both turn our heads to the side and see Sean walking up. Paul scowls, he apparently didn't want to be interrupted, but I could see what was coming from Paul and I'm kind of glad that Sean interrupted, even though I can't stand Sean.

I think Paul was going to tell me he loved me, which I would not have been able to return. Don't get me wrong, I really like Paul and I have fun with him, but he's second best. He _should_ be first best because he has the most important criterion to me, he's human, but he's still second best and I don't think I would have been able to seriously return the words that were on the tip of his tongue. So for once, Sean actually served a purpose. There's only one person I want to hear those words from and Paul's not it.

I look to Chris while Paul is distracted, but his demeanor has changed. Gone is the silly face he was making at Paul, replaced by a more serious look. He's staring at Paul still though and I get an uneasy feeling with the way he's looking at him. Did Chris know what Paul was going to tell me? He must if he's looking at Paul that way. But why is he looking at Paul in that particular way? There's no way he can be jealous over what Paul was going to say to me, was there? Chris said that he couldn't really feel jealousy and that he wouldn't be jealous, but he's looking at Paul like he wants to maul him, but he can't want to maul someone, that can't be part of any angel code.

Sean walks up and Paul pulls me tighter against him. "Dude, did you forget we've got to meet with the guys in our match later?"

"Oh sorry, it slipped my mind when I was with Stephanie," Paul says, looking at me with that adoring look he gets sometimes. Chris's face hasn't changed and he's not saying anything. Does he not want Paul to say those words? Does he think I'm going to say them back to him, I probably wouldn't say them back, I don't think. I mean, Paul is nice, but I'm not in love with him and I wouldn't string him along like that. I don't think I could string him along like that and feel good about myself. Not to mention I'd have an angel on my back, probably chastising me about lying.

"Yeah, well, we should probably go do that."

"Yeah," Paul responds and then turns to me, kissing me, "we'll talk later?"

"Um, sure," I stutter out, wondering how early I can go home tonight. Paul has a match, but I'm not scheduled to go out there with him. I have one backstage segment with Paul, but that's early in the show. I can do that and probably cut out of here. I'll just say that I'm not feeling well and want to lie down. That should get me out of staying for the entire show and then I won't have to confront Paul because he doesn't like being around sick people in case he gets sick.

"Great," he says, kissing me. I kiss him lightly back before he walks away. It isn't until he's almost down the hallway that I notice Sean hasn't gone anywhere. "Can I help you?"

"You think you're so smug, don't you?" he tells me.

I scoff at him, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You and Paul, you think that just because you're dating him, you can monopolize all his time. You know you're nothing to him, right?"

"Stephanie, let's get out of here," Chris tells me, but I'm not about to let this sniveling troll of a man talk to me like that. I'm his boss at the end of the day and I don't have to put up with him talking to me like I'm scum.

"I'm nothing? I don't think you have it right there, Sean," I spit at him. "What? Do _you_ have a crush on him, is that why you're so upset? I'm sorry, but I just don't think you're his type."

"He's only using you. You're nothing but a pretty face and a nice piece of ass to him. Not to mention that it'll get him where he wants to go in this company. Other than that, you're no better than any of the ring rats that hang around here. He knows that and we know that, we laugh about you behind your back."

"That's funny because we laugh about you behind yours," I counter, knowing that Paul wouldn't do that to me. He may be a lot of things in the ring and he may appear to be a lot of things out of it, but he's not that kind of man. I may not love him, but I care about him and I know that he isn't the things that Sean is saying. Sean is just a jealous asshole, sad that a woman could possibly steal his friend.

"One day you'll see, Stephanie, you'll see just how little you really are, not just to him, but to everyone around here. Nobody likes you here, we only put up with you because you're the boss's daughter. You'd be surprised how many people snicker at you behind your back."

"The only reason _you_ have a job is because Paul felt sorry for you and so did my dad. You can't wrestle, you can't cut a promo, hell, you can't even seem to wash your hair properly, grease trap that it is," I tell him. "And don't forget that at the end of the day, it doesn't matter what anyone thinks of me because I can snap my fingers and fire a person, you keep that in mind."

I turn on my heel and start to walk away, angrier than I've been in a while. How dare he talk to me like that? "Stephanie."

I don't talk to Chris in the hallway, but when I get back to my dressing room, I turn to him, "Could you believe him? I couldn't believe him. He's such an ass, the things he was saying to me."

"You held your own," Chris tells me, but he says it slowly.

"Of course, he's a nobody," I dismiss it and then look to Chris, who still has that serious look on his face. What Paul was saying must have really spooked him. "You know what Paul was going to say to me."

"What?" he asks, looking up at me. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention to what you were saying."

"Paul, I mean, the look on your face, Chris what are you feeling towards what Paul was going to say to me?" My voice hitches a little at the end. I bite my lip, feeling like the tide is finally coming my way.

"What Paul was going to say?"

"You know, when he got cut off by Sean," I prompt him.

"I'm sorry, I forgot," he says.

"Forgot? Chris, you don't forget things, your job is remember." I'm confused by his response, unless he's hiding his response, in which case, that's still good for me.

"Remember everything with _you_, I don't care what Paul does, I'm not his guardian angel."

"With me, yeah, that's right, you just, you just seemed a little preoccupied after he got interrupted and I thought…well, it doesn't matter now anyways, I didn't want to hear what he had to say so I'm kind of glad that jerk interrupted, right?"

"Yeah, right."

"Chris, are you sure you're okay, are you feeling…okay?" I venture to ask.

"Yeah, just fine, Stephanie, just fine."


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, everyone, really appreciate them. Here's another installment to this crazy angel story, hope you enjoy and reviews are love so show me some. :)

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"Is Paul in love with me?"

I glance over at Chris as he feigns lying on my bed. I'm lying next to him and looking at him, wondering how he's feeling. He's back in that mood of his that I _hate_. It's like I can barely even talk to him when he's like this. I have no idea what he's even thinking and I want to know and I should know since he's _my_ guardian angel. That should mean there's no secrets between us except for the stuff he absolutely cannot tell me, like anything dealing with the future.

"What?"

"Is Paul in love with me?" I ask again. "I mean, you must see part of the future so I know you can't tell me what's exactly going to happen, but you were there this afternoon, is he in love with me?"

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention," Chris says in that stupid distracted voice of his. He appears to be staring up at the ceiling, but I have no clue what he could be staring at that looks so interesting. Maybe he can just see through walls and stuff and right into heaven. I close my eyes and picture Chris and me in heaven. It's a really nice picture, getting to feel him and touch him and…maybe more with him.

"You were paying attention to me, yes?" I ask hopefully, like maybe he was so focused on me he forgot that Paul even existed.

"I always pay attention to you."

"Then do you think that Paul is in love with me, come on, don't keep it from me."

"Do you _want_ to suffer the consequences of me telling you the future because then you will instantly die," Chris says, turning to me. My eyes widen at him and then he laughs, "I'm kidding, you wouldn't die, but why ruin the surprise?"

"You're a jerk," I say, playfully swatting at him even though I know that I can't touch him. My hand goes right through his shoulder and is just a reminder that he'll never be what I want him to be, not truly. He can only stay at a certain distance.

"I can't tell you," he tells me seriously, turning on his side. "Steph, you know I can't tell you."

"I'm not asking you to tell me," I emulate his position and stare at him. "I'm just wondering if he does love me. If you think he does actually. You were standing right there, you remember what he said even if you say you forgot or didn't hear because you _know_ everything in my life, tell me some random memory."

"Eighth grade, you were in class, it was the beginning of the day and you were saying the Pledge of Allegiance. In the back of the classroom, those two classmates of yours, George and Bryan, were roughhousing and Bryan pushed George into the closet and he fell. You all turned around to look and your teacher-"

"Mr. Abbott got _so_ pissed at them," I finish his story, laughing as I recalled the memory. "Oh my God, I remember that. Mr. Abbott could have such a temper, he was so chill most of the time, but then when you made him mad, he would just blow up at you, like that time he threw the chair, God, why did he do that again?"

"Because Patrick had flicked Janina in the forehead and he saw it and made you all stay after class and he got so angry at you guys, calling you all immature and saying that you were in the 8th grade now, almost high school and then he threw the chair."

"Yeah, otherwise he was so cool," I sigh. "Can you ever find out what happens to people? Like can you send in a call to God and find out?"

He closes his eyes for a minute and then opens them, "He's doing really well. He's got three kids now and he's teaching in Arizona. He's really happy there."

"I'm glad," I smile, thinking back to my teacher. "So you _do_ remember all the little details, so tell me, what do you think, do you think that Paul is in love with me?"

"Do you want him to be in love with you?" he asks me and I don't know how to figure out the answer to that question. It would be so easy to let myself fall in love with Paul. It would probably be the best thing to let myself fall for him. He's here and he's flesh and blood. He loves the business and that would certainly endear him to my father. My mother is content to let me love whomever I want and once Shane grilled the hell out of him, he'd come around. Everyone would be okay with it…but would I be okay with it?

Therein lies the problem. I know I would be settling if I let myself fall for Paul. I'd be settling and I promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn't settle. My parents didn't raise me to settle for second best, but to always go for the gold so to speak. But in this situation, how can I possibly get what's best? I don't have a machine that will suddenly turn Chris into a man, a _real_ man. He's not a figment of my imagination, but his form might not even be what he projects it to be.

"I don't know, maybe, maybe not," I finally say uncertainly. "I'm not sure what I want in regards to that right now."

"That's reasonable and at least you aren't going headlong into this relationship."

"Should I not?" I ask. "I'm not asking for you to look into your crystal ball, I'm just asking your opinion as a friend, someone who has been in this relationship with me from the start."

"I don't like his friends," Chris tells me and it's like he's sagging with relief.

"His friends, you mean the guys in DX?"

"Yeah."

"I don't think they're really his friends," I tell him. "I mean, I guess they hang out, but I just don't see them as friends in the real sense, but then, what do I know, right? I don't think the business is very friendly…that came out wrong. I just think we're too insular, that when we're not working, it's hard to remain friends."

"You have friends, Steph."

"I know, I'm just saying, I can't imagine hanging out with like Trish or Amy outside of the business," I shrug. "I don't think we'd have much in common, but it works for us when we're working."

"Yeah, well, I still don't like them," he tells me. "I don't like the way they treat you."

"You mean Sean," I tell him. He nods. "Is that what's been bugging you?"

"Bugging me? Nothing bugs me, I don't have the ability to be bugged," he tells me and he's so full of it right now, but I guess I play along because he adds quickly, "I'm incapable of feeling bugged. I don't think I have that makeup."

"So what's this then?" I ask, running my fingers over where his forehead should be, where I can _see _his forehead. "God just gave you worry lines to break up the perfection?"

"I do _not_ have worry lines," he says reaching up and rubbing at his forehead. "You're so lying to me. I don't have worry lines."

"Except you do and you've had them for days and days, what's up, Chris? Really, come on, what's up? You can tell me anything, you already know everything there is to know about me, can't you extend the same courtesy to me?"

I'm going out on a limb here, asking to know more about him, more about things there's no possible way I can understand, but I want to know, I want to be in his world the same way he's in mine. I'll at least feel closer to him that way. "Not really."

"Of course you can. I'm not asking you to tell me what heaven is like and I'm not asking you how you change your clothes," I blink my eyes and he's in another outfit and he smirks at me and I roll my eyes. "Show-off. I'm just asking what's on your mind? Why did you want to speak to me again? Why did you even try?"

"It was time," he says quietly. "I don't _need_ to talk to you, you know that, I've been here everyday for your entire life and there's been years I haven't talked to you. There's been so many years that I just watch you being you. You need me of course, but you don't either, being as strong as you are. But it was time because you were ready to accept something a little out of the ordinary."

"You," I smile.

"Yeah, me," he nods. "And I'm glad you did."

"No, I'm _very_ glad I did," I respond to him. "You have no idea. Does it make it more personal to you then? Now that we're talking and we're engaged in constant conversation and interaction? Are your feelings stronger?"

"No, never, I don't know," he tells me, "I'm not enlightened. I'm not God. I don't know everything. I don't know a lot of what you know in regards to feelings or being or having a real body and interacting with other people. I don't have that. Just like you don't have my understanding. So maybe I'm feeling more than usual. Maybe now that you're here and talking to me and confiding in me I have more…maybe I just feel more."

"That's okay, that's _good_," I tell him, encouraged that he might be opening up to me. "Feeling is good, it's…"

"Human," Chris laughs. "It's human is what you were going for, right?"

"No, it's just…you can feel, you could feel before," I remind him.

"You just want me to feel what you feel."

"Sometimes," I tell him. "But I'm glad you feel more now…sometimes you feel like an imaginary friend. Or like I'm crazy." I feel my nose start to burn, the first sign of tears and he looks at me so tenderly that I feel like kissing him. "It just helps when I know that you're feeling stuff…makes me feel less crazy."

"I don't see how _that_ is accomplished."

"Shove it," I pout and he laughs and looks like he wishes he could touch me, but he can't. "Paul won't let his friends bug me. I can talk to him about it, tell them that Sean is being a jerk to me and he'll tell them to lay off. Paul really cares about me…or so I think."

"He loves you," Chris says. "He's so very much in love with you."

"For the right reasons?"

"Yeah, every single right reason. It's right there on his face every time he looks at you. I think he's boring, but he absolutely loves you."

"I thought so," I sigh. "I like him a lot, but I don't know about love yet. I guess that's why he hasn't really told me yet. Maybe he thinks I love him, I don't know. I just know he hasn't said it yet and I hope he doesn't for a while, but I can tell him to make his friends leave me alone."

"Good," Chris says, "because I really don't like them."

"Neither do I," I admit, "jerks."

"You throw that word around too liberally, you know," he tells me, the mood instantly lightening. "You think everyone is a jerk, why don't you make up your mind on when to use the word?"

"Stop teasing me," I stick my tongue out at him, "Mr. I Can Change My Clothes in a Blink. You only did that to show off. And how do you even know what to wear? Aren't angels supposed go around naked, that's how they always did it in the paintings."

"Yeah, they also had these little flying cherubs, but there aren't any of _those_ around and would you quit it with trying to see me naked. I don't want you to think any of your future boyfriends are grossly inadequate."

"You're sick!" I gasp. "Oh my God, you are terrible. Wait, are you saying that you haven't been impressed with any of the guys I've been with."

"I'm not saying I'm not impressed, I'm just saying that you wouldn't want to know what I'm packing."

"Yeah right, you're probably a Ken doll down there."

"Do not make me pull my pants down."

"I dare you," I say with more aplomb than I probably should at the moment. If he were real, right about now is when I would pull down his pants and see for myself.

"What are we, 12?" he kids, which brings up a good question.

"Were you ever 12?"

"Sort of," he answers. "I kind of hover around your age, but I probably won't get any older."

"So when I'm an old woman, you're going to be this hot guy still?"

"You think I'm hot." I feel myself blushing something fierce, the heat rising from my neck all the way to my ears and I can feel my skin burning like it's on fire. Why do I always get caught up in these situations? Why does he always make me blush, no matter how many times I embarrass myself around him?

"You're…good-looking, but I'm sure all angels are."

"You'd think that, but no, I'm pretty hot I guess," he winks at me. "I guess that's why you stare at me all the time, huh?"

"Don't get an inflated head, you egotist," I tell him, sitting up, "you think I'm beautiful so it goes both ways, you know."

"Stephanie, I'm kidding," he says. "I'm just trying to ease the mood, okay. Look, I worry about you, it's my job, but just like everything I've ever tried to do for you, you have it covered. I'm a pretty useless guardian angel when you think about it. You always take care of everything. You're amazing that way. I'm kind of just along for the ride."

"You _can_ lie," I tell him, glancing over my shoulder at him.

"You think I'm lying?"

"Your job is to protect me, so yes, I think you're lying when you tell me that I handle everything myself, you, Mr. Angel, are a liar."

"Well then, Ms. McMahon, I guess I am."


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, everyone, I'm so glad you love my crazy story! Hope you enjoy reading the chapter as much as I loved writing it and reviews are awesome, so think about leaving one. :)

* * *

"So why are you avoiding Paul?"

"I'm not avoiding him," I tell Chris, rolling my eyes and then cursing inwardly because he knows I'm avoiding Paul and just once I'd like it if Chris _didn't_ know what was going on inside my head. Okay, so he doesn't really know what's going on inside my head, but he can read me like nobody else can so even if he can't read my thoughts, he can certainly read my actions, at least most of them. I guess knowing that I'm avoiding someone is one of those things he can feel and yet…other feelings go by completely unnoticed, which is probably for the best come to think of it.

"You haven't called him in three days, four hours, twenty-two minutes, and fifty-three, fifty-four, fifty-five…"

"I get it, okay, you have this wonderfully masterful grasp of time, so tell me, oh wise one, when was the last time I watched…um…_Space Jam_, huh?" I asked him glibly, even though I know he's going to know and he doesn't disappoint me either.

"Six years, five days, six hours, and thirty-seven minutes," he answers almost immediately. "You should watch that movie again, you really liked it, I think it would hold up well, don't you think?"

"Beside the point, stop…knowing things."

"How am I supposed to stop knowing things?" he asks and he's being sarcastic and he knows he has me in a trap because he knows that I'm avoiding Paul.

There are a bunch of reasons why I'm avoiding him. For one, I'm just not ready to hear the words I know he's going to say. I'm going to feel bad when he says it and I don't say it back. I've never been one of those people who will just throw words like that around. I'm not going to stroke his ego or make him feel better by saying it when I don't mean it. That's even worse in my mind, leading him down a false path…at least right now.

I'm not sure I can love Paul. I want to, I think it would just be easier if I did, but my feelings for Chris seem to cloud over everything else in my life right now. I don't know how I can look at any guy and want them when I have this amazing man who is always there for me, who knows me better than I know myself. I know I'm projecting these qualities onto Chris because he's gorgeous and he's there for me when nobody else is, but right now, any man I meet is a pale comparison. Angels are a dangerous thing, I've decided. Chris says they're not all these gloriously beautiful creatures, so why did I get put with the most gorgeous one of all?

"By just…I don't know, stop trying to make me think!" I tell him, fed up with feeling like I know nothing and he knows everything.

"Calm down, Steph, nobody is interrogating you," he laughs at me. "I was just asking how I should stop knowing things. You surely know some things that I don't and I know some things that you don't, I think it's a fair balance, don't you think?"

"No, because you know a lot more than I do."

"Maybe, but that's just because you don't know everything I do and so you just project that you think I know more when…I probably don't," he finishes and there's something in his tone that makes me look at him, but he just gives me a charming smile. "So really, why haven't you at least called Paul? I thought you were going to take to him about his friends. I really think you should do that soon."

"You do?" I ask. "Why?"

"Because…it's fresh in your mind," he responds. "You're notorious for forgetting things, Stephanie."

"I am not!"

"That's why you write everything down," he points out.

"I do that because it's practical, not for any weird reason," I try to argue, but it's no use, "fine, okay, yes, I am notorious for forgetting things. I just don't want hi to tell me that he loves me. I mean, I don't love him and I don't want it to be this elephant in the room, you know, he says he loves me, I say, 'oh, well that's nice,' and then I can never speak to him again without feeling incredibly awkward.

"And having him sit around waiting for you to call is not awkward?"

"He has a life," I say, "I'm sure that he's out hanging with his friends or doing his weight-lifting. Besides, it's the weekend, it's not like I'm going to avoid him forever, maybe a weekend apart is just what we need. He's a very independent guy, you know. When he was with Joanie, they were together for years and he never even invited her to live with him. I think he likes the space. He'll probably appreciate that I'm giving him alone time, a ton of guys would."

"He's called you five times and you haven't answered any of them. You look at the phone with this forlorn expression on your face and then you just put the phone down. That's not giving space. Are you going to break up with him?"

"No, I'm not," I tell him and I'm so adamant about that, that I even scare myself a little. I think I'm just settling now. I'm here and Chris isn't, not really and why should I have to be alone. "I like his company."

"Wow, that smacks of a forever relationship," Chris says sarcastically. "You sound like you're talking about a dog or some acquaintance, not a guy you've been dating for a little while now. You're probably going to have to put out soon."

"Shouldn't you be pioneering for me _not_ having sex? I mean, isn't it supposed to be this sacred bond?" I respond with my own brand of sarcasm. Anything I can do to turn the tables on him, I take the chance. I'm in a catty mood and I know it and maybe I just don't like Chris pointing out my shortcomings, but I'm bugged and he's not helping.

"Too late for that, don't you think?" he smirks and if he were solid, I'd slap him right now. "God is _far_ too busy to care about you having sex. What do you think he does all day, sit in front of the master computer and watch you?"

"There's a master computer?"

"What do I know, I haven't been to God's place," he tells me, "I'm kind of responsible for a life here. I don't have time to go whisking off and visiting God at his home, though I hear he has a killer surround system, I must watch movies with him someday."

"You're just being a jerk."

"I also heard he gives the best parties, everyone can come, the more the merrier since you know, heaven, great expanses and all that. He tries not to be _too_ ostentatious, I've heard, but that's just coming from guardian angels I've happened to meet whose people had near-death experiences and they got to go up there for a few minutes. God's pad is awesome."

I roll my eyes, "Must _everything_ be a joke to you."

"There are lots of things that aren't jokes to me," he tells me in a low voice, "believe me."

"Yeah, but you're always being a jerk to me, angels shouldn't be jerks, they should be the nicest things on earth or heaven or wherever you consider yourself to be."

"I think that actually goes to saints," Chris says and I want to strangle him. He knows this and he adds, "I'm just trying to lighten your mood, Stephanie. I think you should call Paul, at least let him know that you're alive. He's probably waiting for you to call him back."

"Do you know he is, are you in cosmic connection with his angel?"

"No, I'm not in cosmic connection with anyone except you," he answers and I hate that he can make anything sound so damn romantic. I grumble to myself and grab my phone, dialing Paul's number. He grins at me, "Good girl."

"Don't patronize me, I'm not five anymore."

"You barely even looked at me while you were five, you were too busy playing around with your friends and being a kid." I flip him off as the phone rings. "Oh, that's nice, Stephanie, flip off an angel. St. Peter is _so_ going to bring that up when you are at the gates waiting for entrance and I'm not even going to defend you on that one."

"I'll take my chances," I narrow my eyes at him just as Paul answers and God, I hope he didn't hear me talking to an angel, "Paul, hey!"

"Stephanie," he sounds so happy to hear from me and Chris is right, I should have at least called him back. "I've been waiting to hear from you, I figured you were busy or something and just couldn't come to the phone. I was even tempted to drive over there, see if you were doing anything."

"No, no coming over necessary," the last thing I want is to have him over here, "I've just been busy like you've said, you know how it goes when your parents own the company…I mean, you don't, but never-mind. I just thought I'd check in, see how your weekend was going."

"Boring, especially boring because I can't see you…hey, thought, why don't I come over there and we can hang out tonight, just the two of us. I can bring over some food and maybe some beer or wine if you prefer and maybe a movie, I have a ton of movies-"

"Probably because he's so used to being alone," Chris says as he's leaning very close to me, he's practically in me…that sounds wrong, his being…no, that still sounds wrong, he's just standing very close to me.

"Shh," I say before realizing that Paul cannot possibly hear Chris, but he certainly heard me saying shh to something, "Sorry," he says, "did I say something wrong?"

"Oh, no, no, no, sorry, um, I thought I heard a sound outside, but it was just a tree branch brushing against the side of the house," I recover while simultaneously glaring at the chuckling Chris. Why can't I feel him again because I want to punch him now.

"Well I'm glad you're okay," he laughs, "so, me coming over?"

"Yeah, I'm really not in the mood to do anything tonight, is that okay with you? Maybe we could…do something after Raw on Monday?"

"Yeah, sure, totally, I'd like that," he agrees quickly, like he thinks if he doesn't pounce on it, it'll be forever until he sees me again.

"Yeah, I would too," I lie.

"Ask him about his friends," Chris tells me and I nod and try to shoo him away, which doesn't work because he's my guardian angel and he can't just go away, but he at least takes a step backwards as if that'll give me all the space in the world.

"Oh, yeah, can I ask you or tell you about something rather?" I say and Chris looks pleased that I'm telling Paul about this. I don't know why he worries so much…wait, he's my guardian angel, he protects me in his own way and I guess he thinks Paul can talk to the guys.

"Of course, anything you want, Steph," Paul sounds so eager to please me that it makes me feel sort of bad. I can tell from the tone of his voice that he's in love with me and only wants the best for me and I feel guilty that I'm in love with the guy in front of me and not the guy on the phone. The guy in front of me is perfect…and unattainable and yet, even when he's annoying me, I find myself falling just a tiny bit more because…I can't help it. When he's bugging me and acting like a jerk, it's more endearing to me, like we have this playful relationship. We don't, he's my angel and I know it's time to start turning towards Paul, but why settle? But then if I don't settle, what the hell kind of relationship could I have with an angel? I'd be labeled a crazy person, like those people who want to marry rocks or animals or something. Hey, come look at the girl who wants to marry her imaginary friend! Not the moniker I want really.

"Well, it's just…your friends have been…less than kind to me. I don't know how much you see, but I know that they kind of wait for you not to be around. I'm not saying they harass me or anything, but clearly, they don't like me and I don't know how to fix that. I'm not suggesting you stop hanging out with your friends, I'd never say that," Chris is nodding, agreeing with how I'm going about this, "but I just would like it more if they acknowledged that I'm not some harpy that's trying to steal you from them."

"They have? I had no idea," and he's genuine and now he's going to do something about it, "I'll talk to them, don't worry about it. I don't even know why they're worried, we don't spend that much time together and you always let me go hang out with them."

Does he have to make me sound like some great girlfriend when the reason I do those things is because I want to spend time with Chris and not with Paul. My face burns a little and I'm not sure if I'm embarrassed that I'd rather spend time with my angel than with my boyfriend or if it's because I'm ashamed because I have this great guy who is willing to do everything for me and I keep screwing it up.

"I think they're just threatened by our relationship. They don't really know me, they probably think I'm trying to steal you or something. It's just something I've noticed and I don't want to continue this relationship with all your friends hating my guts." Part of me hopes he'll right now choose his friends over me, but he loves me and he won't; he'd probably choose me if it came to it.

"I'll take care of it, don't worry."

"Thanks, Paul."

"No problem, do you want me to let you go now?"

"Yeah," I tell him, feeling the urge to invite him over, but then I look over at Chris and he's sitting (hovering? Whatever) over a chair and his chin is in his hand and he's so handsome and I feel like I keep choosing him over everything. It's a wonder I still have friends. I should invite Paul over, do something normal for once, but that's harder than it appears, "I'll talk to you on Monday, okay?"

"Okay, bye, Steph."

"Bye, Paul," I hang up the phone and smile over at Chris. "See, done, now I'm safe for another day."

He laughs, turning his eyes towards me without moving his head, "Yeah, I guess you are. Lucky for me, my work here is done for the day. Why are you so afraid of his love, Steph? I mean, I can read you pretty well, I think, I've known you since the moment you were born, but this, this I can't figure out what's going on inside that pretty head of yours. I think for the first time in your life, I'm not entirely sure what you're thinking. I know that Paul is a good, if not incredibly boring, guy, but you've never turned away guys in love with you before, not when you were in a relationship. You barely want any physical contact and I _know_ that you like doing that-"

"Eww, Chris," I complain.

"I can't help but know!" he argues, "I'm right there!"

I cover my face with my hands, "Don't ever watch me again."

"Yeah, easier said than done, but I just can't figure out why you're _with_ Paul if you don't want to _be_ with Paul."

"It's complicated," I tell him, looking at him and trying to reveal everything with my eyes, but I don't think he'd understand, but I test the waters anyways and maybe it's against my better judgment, but it's worth a shot, "Chris, I love you."

"I'm your angel, you better," he says, "it wouldn't be cool with God if you rejected me, just saying, that's how some people end up…" He points to the ground and gives me a knowing look. He doesn't get it. He doesn't understand the kind of love I have for him. I think to him, love is this generic thing, something he's ingrained with for me. I don't think it has the peaks and valleys of real love. It's just this constant that he's felt since the beginning. He's never had to develop love for me, it's just…there. Everything is just there.

"Don't worry, I'm not rejecting you."

"Good, but for the record, I love you too," he tells me, "you're my Stephanie." I smile despite the growing blackness in my stomach. He doesn't even get my love for him and if he can't, he never will.

"You know, maybe I will invite Paul over."


	18. Chapter 18

"This is nice, don't you think?"

For someone else, it might have been. For _anyone_ else it might have been the pinnacle of romance, but I'm still left feeling somewhat cold and it's not from the weather. My hand is tightly clasped with Paul's, but I don't feel nearly the amount of warmth I do when I'm even close to Chris. I should let Paul be my anchor to the real world, pull me back from wherever my mind wanders when it thinks about Chris. I know that Paul is waiting for my answer so I think of something fast.

"Yeah, it is nice."

"Sometimes I feel like I never get to see you," he tells me and it's with a note of sadness to it, like he really wants to spend more time with me, but I'm never there for him and he's absolutely right. I've been pulling away and for no other reason than I'd rather spend my time with someone that doesn't really exist in my dimension.

"I'm sorry, I've just been so busy lately," I respond, trying to sound remorseful. "With the added the responsibility my father has been giving me, I guess I've just been MIA and I apologize for that."

"Good girl," Chris whispers in my ear, "now you two can go be lovey-dovey."

I want to tell him to shut up, but I know I can't, not with Paul right there. I don't _want_ to be lovey-dovey with Paul and I feel like I'm just going through the motions with him now. I want someone, I just don't want Paul, but what's the alternative? Telling Chris I love him and never being able to be with him, loving an angel for all time and wishing to die? I've got to get my head in the game, but I just feel like I'm constantly getting pulled into this other world.

"You don't have to apologize," he tells me, "I get that you're busy and everything and I never have a problem with that, just wish I could see you more often than when we're at work. It's kind of weird, I mean, I know that I'm traveling a lot, but with our off days, we live so close to each other, you'd think we'd see each other more."

"We're not _that_ close," I tell him, "you're in New Hampshire a lot of the time and that's a good four hour drive from where I am so it's not entirely that close, I mean, sure it's closer than say if you lived in Florida like a lot of the wrestlers, but just in general, I mean, it's not that close."

"Smooth, Steph, smooth," Chris tells me with a chuckle.

"Um, yeah," Paul says, a little put off by my rant it seems. I was just saying though, it's not like I'm purposely going out of my way to not be around him on our off days, not really. He's in New Hampshire and that's not close, it's just not. "I was actually thinking of getting a place in Connecticut, maybe in Stamford or somewhere close."

"Why?" I ask immediately, then realize how harsh that came out and I scale it back a bit, "I mean, that's just such a serious decision, to move, you know what I mean. I would hope that you're not doing it for me or anything because I wouldn't want you to uproot your life for me."

"I mean, partly for you, I'm not going to lie, but it'd be closer to the WWF headquarters and I like that aspect of it as well."

"But you don't actually work _in_ Titan Towers," I say, deflecting away from him actually moving to Connecticut to be around me. When did we get _that_ serious? I didn't realize we were in the stage of our relationship where we're suddenly moving closer to each other. I sincerely hope that he's not hinting that he wants to move in _with_ me. For one, I'm definitely not ready to move in with anyone, especially not Paul. We haven't been going out for that long and just…then I think that if I have someone around me all the time like that, I won't get to talk to Chris. I'll have to sneak into bathrooms or closets to get a moment with him.

"I know, but I still think it would be good to live close. There's really nothing tethering me to New Hampshire."

"Isn't that where your parents live?" I ask, remembering that he had mentioned that.

"Yeah, but who wants to live around their parents…and as soon as that came out of my mouth I remembered that you live near your parents," he says embarrassedly and I laugh because it is funny and a little cute.

"Well, I need to be close to them because I _do_ occasionally work at Titan," I tell him, "but I'm not going to say not move or move or whatever, it's always up to you, not me, of course, because it's you who would be moving."

I'm not sure I'm even making sense anymore, but he doesn't seem to mind as he kisses me on the cheek. Chris is making kissing noises in my other ear and even though I know he won't feel it and I won't feel him, I shove my arm where his stomach should be. "Really, Stephanie, now you're trying to hit me? An angel, you're trying to hit an angel? You know God keeps a permanent record and it's called my memory bank and you can for sure bet that's going to come up at some point."

He knows I can't say anything and that it's killing me that I can't argue with him. I know because when I briefly glance over at him, he has a smirk on his face that I wish I could wipe right off. "So I guess this is where I get off," Paul tells me as we stop in front of the locker room. "The guys are probably in there. I know that…I know what you said and I don't want you to feel awkward."

"Thanks," I respond and I am a little grateful that I don't have to hang around his stupid friends. Chris looks like he's relieved too. I guess as my guardian angel he can pick up on the fact that none of Paul's friends seem to like me. I don't monopolize Paul's time or act like a twit in front of them so I'm not sure where the animosity comes from, but maybe they're all bitter that they don't have anyone, I don't know nor do I care.

"Anything for you," he tells me and he sounds so sweet and sincere. I feel for him and I lean up and kiss him, ignoring anything Chris might be saying right now. Of course, the moment I try to stop thinking about Chris is the moment I wonder if his lips are as soft as they look. They probably are because angels are these pretty perfect beings and so his lips are probably perfect for kissing, not that they'll ever get to do that, but damn, what a shame that he can't be kissed properly. "I'll see you later?"

"We work together, you're going to have to see me whether you like it or not," I wink at him and he seems happier now that I'm around and actually paying attention to him. I feel bad for Paul. Sometimes I see him as this little puppy dog, begging for my scraps and being ecstatic over whatever little I give him. That's probably the worst thing I can do, let him beg for whatever I'll give. I know I'm using him to get over a man I can never have and he doesn't deserve that, but I never claimed to be an angel myself. I may have one, but I don't act like one and is it so wrong to just want someone to ease the hurt that I feel over not being able to be with Chris? I don't think that's so bad, certainly not a criminal offense.

"Then I'll see you later."

"Of course you will," I lean up and give him a brief peck on the lips before finding my dressing room for the evening. I was there earlier, but Chris was teasing me about something, I don't remember what and I've lost my bearings in the arena.

"Need help?" Chris asks and I nod and he leads me straight to my dressing room. Angels _are_ good for something practical it seems. "So things seem to be going better between you and Paul."

"I guess you can say that," I shrug, not wanting to give a clear answer though I'm sure Chris can read my body language. When you have a whole lifetime stored up in your mind of someone, you're bound to be able to tell when someone is trying to avoid the subject.

"He's not a bad guy, Steph, I mean, you could do worse, like that grease-pit Sean Waltman. I've _got_ to ask Paul's guardian angel why Paul stays friends with that loser," Chris said, hovering over a chair and leaning back on it. "Now, I don't throw around the word loser a lot, let me tell you, but when it fits, it fits."

"I would never date Sean."

"Good thing too. That guy has got quite the ego on him. Maybe I'll ask his guardian angel if it's all an act. God, I'd hate to be stuck with someone like him. It makes me pray in thanks every day that I got someone as amazing as you."

"Thanks," I tell him, leaving it at that. Too many times I think I pry and try to get words that I know aren't coming. I should just stop trying and then maybe they'll come. "But maybe he's different."

"Doesn't mean that I'd want to be his guardian angel," Chris says, "not that I'd really have a choice, I guess, I'm not sure what the criteria is for angel selection such as it were. I just kind of got you in some weird twist of fate, not that I'm complaining. I know that we're all supposed to love mankind, not Mick Foley…" Damn, he knew what I was going to say, "but I just don't like that guy."

"And here you're supposed to love all of God's creatures."

"Yeah, right, uh huh, sure," Chris say sarcastically as he rolls his eyes, "I have opinions too-"

"I've become well-aware of the phenomenon, yes," I interrupt and when he glares at me, I just shrug carelessly and then laugh at myself for trying to appear coy. "Sorry, go on, you have opinions to and…"

"And I just don't like him. I just don't like that he doesn't like you. I know and understand that humans feel pettiness and jealousy and all those negative things and that they have their enemies, but I'm sorry, I'm an angel and more specifically _your_ angel so I'm damn well going to think that everyone should like you."

"Instead of knowing that millions of people hate me?"

"No, they don't! They hate a character that you portray, there's a big difference and I'm sticking too that," Chris nodded. "I don't see why anyone would hate you, you're a good person with a big heart. If Sean doesn't like that kind of person then I don't want to know what kind of people he _does_ like."

"Probably people like him or people that will suck up to him."

"And that's what I don't get, that guy has _fans_. I mean, talk about riding someone's coattails. The guy isn't even that good a wrestler if you ask me."

"You know wrestling that intimately?"

"Um, hello, I've been around it as long as you have, plus I've always been cognizant, so all those lectures about wrestling your dad gave you when you were under a year old, they're all stored up in here, thank you very much," he says, tapping his head.

"Wouldn't it be cool if I could project memories from your brain?"

"You mean like a slide projector?"

"Or like a movie, slide projector, what are you, from the 50's?"

"I don't have the need for technology, work for God over here, he provides me with all the tools I could ever possibly need," he tells me. "Why would I need a phone, who am I going to call? I don't have parents, I don't have family, I don't have some angel girlfriend waiting for me at home and I certainly don't have angel kids because talk about depressing."

I laugh, he's so absurd sometimes, "You're so weird."

"I'm just stating the truth," he tells me, "I'm not up on the newest fads around your world. I might if you were some kind of salesman or something, but since you're not, I don't know so…a movie projector then?"

"Never-mind," I roll my eyes and he's laughing at me. "I'm just not going to talk to you for the rest of the evening, that's all."

"I can't project memories, I'm not a piece of equipment," he says.

"I'm going to talk to Paul," I don't know where that comes from, but because Chris and I are teasing each other back and forth, it felt right to try and make him jealous again, even though I've given up on that particular task. He's not going to be jealous no matter what I try so I might as well just not try.

"Okay, here we go again," Chris says, getting up and following me out the door. I walk quickly, like I can actually get ahead of him, but he's an angel, they can materialize and float and make my life miserable so he's constantly right there. I reach Paul's locker room and open the door without thinking, only to find that he isn't there, but that damn Sean is.

"Hello, Stephanie."


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, hope you're liking the story, chapter's a little heavy, you've been warned! If you wanna, reviews would be welcomed and appreciated. :)

* * *

I have to try really hard not to roll my eyes at Sean. It's like my eyeballs go on alert when he's around and the potential for eye-rolling reaches an extremely dangerous level. He's just such a blowhard that I can't help it. I'm not even sure why Paul is friends with him or any of his friends really. I remember the Kliq and how they all used to act like a bunch of frat boys. My father hated it, hated them too and even though it was bad for business, she knew a part of her father was glad when they were gone. It also spelled trouble for Paul because he was punished for all their indiscretions, but her father stopped holding that grudge and now Sean, one of the guys in the Kliq, was back and still thought he was the best in the world.

I want to tell him that he's a nobody, that he rides the coattails of all the guys better than him, but what's the point? He hates me anyways and I don't want Paul to think that he has to choose between his friends and me because he doesn't and I'm not that type of person. That would be like him asking me to choose between him and Chris and he'd lose that bet. I'm not afraid I'd lose if I asked Paul to do that for me, but I just don't care enough. That brings me back to Sean, who is staring at me and I'm staring back and it's uncomfortable at best.

"Where's Paul?" I finally ask.

"Around," Sean shrugs.

"Oh, that's really helpful," Chris says and I can tell that _he's_ rolling his eyes for the both of us. "Let's get out of here, Stephanie. Paul's not here and I don't want you hanging around with this guy."

I know I should listen, but it feels like Sean and I are in some kind of showdown and if I leave, I feel like I'm going to lose or something and I hate that. "Do you know when he'll be back then?"

"I'm not sure, he said he'd be right back," Sean tells me with a shrug.

"Stephanie, come on, let's just go," Chris whines. "We can find Paul later. I'm sure that we'll even be able to feel the boring as soon as we step into the hallway, okay? So let's just go, I don't like you here with this guy."

"I think I'll wait," I say to both Chris and Sean, "as long as he'll be back soon, I might as well stick around a while."

"Sure," Sean says and I push past him and seat myself down on the couch. Chris comes over with me and I can feel him sitting next to me. I glance over at him and he's just staring at Sean and I look at him, but he's not even paying attention to me. I try to get his attention again, but it's still to no avail. He really doesn't like Sean.

I look around the room and I can still feel Chris's presence next to me and it feels more tangible than it usually does. I keep looking over at him, but he just keeps watching Sean. I wish I could touch him so I could at least ask him with my eyes what's wrong. I can't just ask him because Sean already doesn't like me, he doesn't need to think I'm crazy on top of that. I sigh, hoping that Chris will hear me and respond to me instead of looking like a watchdog. The tension feels kind of thick near Chris and I keep trying to make slight noises, but nothing so I turn to the only other person in the room.

"I know you don't like me," I say point blank because we might as well get that out there.

"Stephanie, what are you doing?" Chris asks me, finally acknowledging my presence.

"So you're presumptuous too," Sean says smugly.

"I'm not being presumptuous, I know you can't stand me, I know you think…actually, I don't really know what you think and I don't know why you have to hold some grudge against me just because I'm with Paul. It's not like I'm asking him to choose between the two of us."

"Like he'd choose you anyways, the Kliq sticks together," Sean tells me and this time I can't keep from rolling my eyes.

"God, what are you, twelve? Do you think that you're all just going to be best buds forever? I mean, hello, don't you think that he can have a life if he wants to. I'm not even around that often and you make me feel like I'm some kind of leper whenever I'm around. Get over yourself, Sean."

"Oh, that's rich coming from you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I inquire. He's pissing me off and it's probably better to hash it out. I can hear Chris mumbling something to me, but it becomes background noise as I focus my attention on Sean and ignore Chris.

"It means that _you_ need to get over yourself, you think that you're some high class bitch and you know Paul is only using your skinny ass to get places. He doesn't give a shit about you," Sean laughs cruelly, but I'm ignoring that because he's an idiot and only proving himself to be more so.

"Oh, okay, tell me then how I'm some high class bitch, I bet you can't even come up with anything because you've got nothing and as for Paul using me, if anyone is using anyone, it's you, using all your little Kliq buddies. Believe me, Sean, I know how things work around here and if it wasn't for Paul and Shawn, you wouldn't have a job here," I tell him, "and if it weren't for Kevin and Scott over in WCW, you wouldn't have had a job over there either."

"How dare you, you little bitch," Sean is angry now, but I don't care, I'm glad that he's angry. He's treated me like such crap that it feels good to hit him where it hurts. He can just live with that.

"Everyone knows it too," I poke the embers because I can and I want to and I don't care anymore. I'm sick and tired of the way Sean treats me just because I'm with Paul. I've never had to deal with a guy's friends acting like jerks to me and so I'm not exactly well-versed in how I should handle the situation, but this is the way I'm handling it.

"You don't know shit," he tells me and I just smirk and shrug at him.

"Stephanie, what the hell are you doing?" Chris is hissing in my ear, but I'm ignoring him still. "Don't get into a fight, you're being stupid, there's no point in getting into a fight with him, you know that, would you just quit it already."

"I know more than you do," I challenge.

"Oh yeah, you think that?"

"I _know_ that," I tell him. "I don't even know why the hell Paul bothers to waste his time on you. You're a waste of space around here and the only reason you're employed is because of your friends because your wrestling has gone downhill, believe me, the boos you get aren't because you're a heel, it's because everyone hates you, like genuinely hates you."

"Shut up!" He's seething and speaking through clenched teeth.

"Stephanie, seriously now, okay, let's just go. We can find Paul later and you're being stupid here," Chris tells me and if I bothered to listen harder, I would have been able to tell that his voice is actually worried now, but I'm not paying attention. "Stephanie!"

He's yelling in my ear now and I turn towards him. I don't know how he did that, but it was like his voice was the only thing I could hear in the world, like all the other sound suddenly dimmed to nothing while Chris's voice boomed in my head. It's probably some supernatural angel trick that he has, making sound irrelevant but for his voice. It's effective though because suddenly he's kneeling in front of me and I don't even know how he got there so fast. I blinked and there he was.

"We're getting out of here," Chris tells me and he's not asking me, he is definitely telling me. There's no room for compromise in his voice and the way he's staring at me, it reminds me of hypnotization, the kind you see on bad television. I nod imperceptibly and he seems calmed by this. He seems to take a breath of relief, but I'm not sure he really breathes, so I guess it's just…well, sort of like a breath of relief.

"You know, I can wait to come see Paul, I'm not liking the present company," I stand up and I start to make my way towards the door, but Sean steps to stand in front of it, his arms crossed in front him and he's staring down at me under that greasy piles of curls he calls hair.

"You're not going anywhere, we're finishing this discussion."

"There's nothing to discuss," I let him know. "I think you're an asshole, you think I'm a bitch, so fine, think what you want, but at the end of the day, the only one who's right is me. Paul will see it soon enough."

"You're not going to tell him anything," Sean tells me.

"The hell I am," I scoff. "You can't tell me what to say to my boyfriend, the day that you can tell me that is the day that is…well, never, actually, a whole lot of never. Now get out of my way."

"I said you're not going anywhere."

"I am going somewhere and that way is out of here." I make a move to get by him, but he pushes me back. "Don't touch me!"

"Don't test me, Stephanie."

"Let me out of here," I tell him and my voice is strong, but my resolve is not. Chris is silent next to me and I know that he's here, but my fear is not subsiding in the slightest. There's only one way out of here and I really don't know if Paul is coming back any time soon. All I have to go on is Sean's word and right now, Sean's word isn't exactly the best one to go by.

"Like I said, we're going to hash this out."

"I don't want to talk to you any longer," I keep my voice even or as even as it'll go right now. "I'm not going to deal with you, now get out of my way."

"No," he tells me in no uncertain terms.

"Yes, you are." I try to get by him again and again, he pushes me back. It's not a hard push, but it's a push nonetheless and I'm liking the physical contact less and less. "If you don't let me get by-"

"If I don't let you get by, what, what's going to happen?"

I rear my hand back to slap the spit out of his mouth, but he catches my hand mid-air and then stares at me, gripping my wrist tightly. I keep my mouth pursed closed because I'm afraid if I open it, I'll squeak in pain because his grip is tightening by the second. I try not to show my fear even though it feels like it's coming over me in waves and I'm drowning in it. I try not to gulp audibly, but as he stares down at my face, I can tell that he knows he has the upper-hand.

"Not so tough now, are we?" he says like he's some cliché bad guy and if I wasn't so scared, I would have offered a retort. I can hear Chris near me, but I'm afraid of what Sean will do if I turn my head so I just stay staring at him. "You need to know your place around here and you would be nowhere if it weren't for who your daddy is. When it comes down to it, you're nothing, but an ugly, childish, slutty whore. Who have you spread your legs for, huh? I heard you and Randy Savage when you were a little girl-"

"I never, that's disgusting," I tell him and I hate these rumors that go around about me. None of them are true, not a single one.

"Give it up, Stephanie, everyone knows what a whore you are and how you'll give it up to anyone, so why don't you prove everyone right."

I don't like this now. I really don't like this. I start to back up as my breath hitches, but he's still got his grip on me. I look around and Chris looks absolutely terrified. I've never seen his face like that, I've never seen anyone's face so contorted in horror. He's helpless and he knows it and it's scaring him. It's as if I can feel his emotions as well as my own. I don't recall, at this very moment, if Chris has ever said that he feels fear, but if he hasn't felt it before, he sure as hell feels it now. I can't remember a worse situation I've ever been in.

"What's the matter, Steph? Don't find me attractive?"

"Let me go," I tell him, but my voice is wavering now, quivering and my fear is pounding in my entire body.

"I don't think so," he looks at me smarmily and then starts to back me up. I refuse to beg or plead. I just need to find a way out of here. I kick him in the shin and he barely even reacts to it. He's got his shin guards on so he probably didn't feel it. Instead, I start to thrash and try to break myself free from his grasp, doing anything I can, but this only succeeds in making him grab both my wrists. He's backing me up and suddenly the back of my legs hit the couch and I'm toppling over it and landing on my ass. I'm trying so hard not to be as scared as I know I am, if I show that I'm scared, he wins, I can't let him win.

I can't even look over at Chris because my body feels rigid and not even my own anymore. It's like everything that I am is suddenly gone and I'm this bundle of nerves and energy that makes me stick to this couch as Sean hovers over me. I hate this feeling of helplessness. My father taught me to be strong, to face down challenges, but he never told me what to do when you're facing a man who has such hatred for you that you aren't even sure how far he's willing to go. That's what scares me the most, I'm not entirely sure how far he's willing to go.

"Sean," I whimper and God have I just been broken, is that really my voice because it sounds so weak.

"Let's see what Paul really sees in you."

"NO!" Chris's voice and then suddenly out of nowhere, a chair comes flying at Sean and knocks him over. I look over the couch and Chris is in shock, staring at his hands and then his head lifts and he's looking at me and his face, I see his face and it's shock and awe and horror all mixed together. I glance back at Sean and he's on the ground, bleeding from the side of his head where the chair hit him. He's staring where Chris is, but I know he can't see Chris. His eyes are wide with fear and shock. "Stephanie, get out of here!"

I do the only thing I can, I run.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, everyone, hope you like the chapter, things are starting to pick up, reviews are welcome and cherished. :P

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I bend over and try to catch my breath. My back is against the door of my office and I'm panting. I don't even know how I got here exactly, but here I am. As soon as Chris told me to run, I just ran. I didn't even think about where I was going, I just ran. I think I heard people calling my name as I ran down the hallway, but it was all a blur. I managed to get to my office and I threw myself inside, the door slamming behind me. My hands fumbled for the lock and I managed to do it and now I'm standing here and I feel like there's an earthquake because my whole body is trembling. I'm shaking so hard that it's hard to get to the couch, but I manage to.

I collapse against the smooth leather and sink into the sofa. I lean forward, putting my elbows on my knees and I let my head fall into my hands. I don't know what to do, if I should say anything, if I should leave. I don't even remember if I have a scene tonight. I don't think I do, I might, but…I'm not even sure what's going on or what time it is or how long I stood by the door expecting it to be thrown down by Sean at any moment.

I try to clear my head, but I just keep replaying what just happened over and over again. Sean was going to…he might have. I like to think that I would've overpowered him, but I can't be sure that would've been the case. I feel weak right now and I know I felt weak when I was in that room, when he was hovering over me and I thought nobody would ever show up to help me. Except…except someone _did_ show up and help me, no, that's not right, someone was always there to help me.

It's only now that I'm calming down, my heart starting to return to a normal beat that I think about what _really_ just happened. I was so scared and running so hard that my mind couldn't process what I'd just seen. Chris had been able to throw something at Sean, _throw_ something. For anyone else, I wouldn't bat an eyelash, but Chris can't touch anything, Chris has never been able to touch anything. He's told me before that the way he can persuade me to do the right thing is through his words. He's never touched me, he's never been able to. I've tried, my hand went right through him. So how did he throw that chair?

He looked as shocked as I did that he was able to do that and I don't understand a lick of it. How did he pick it up? How did he even know he could pick it up? I look up and around, expecting Chris to be around, but I don't see him anywhere in the room. "Chris?" I call out tentatively.

There's no answer and I look around again, "Chris?" I call out again, my voice wavering. "Are you here?"

There's still no answer so I stand up and I look around, peeking in the bathroom like he's lurking in there. He _has_ to be around, he's my guardian angel and he just saved my life. He can't just disappear after something like that. I think back to running away from Sean. I don't remember Chris being near me or telling me to run faster. Was he with me then? I think the last time I saw him was when he told me to run, but where is he now?

"Chris, if you're invisible, will you please become visible again?" I ask the air, looking around quickly like he'll just appear right in front of me. "Chris, I'm asking you nicely if you'll just appear for me. Chris, I'm not okay, please, _please_ can you just come back?"

I spin around again, but there's still nobody there. I'm about to ask again when there's a knock at the door. My body tenses as I look at it, like it's going to just come off its hinges. I slowly step towards it, fearing that at any moment, Sean is going to get me and this time, Chris won't be there to stop him. "Who is it?" I call out, my voice quiet and weak.

"Steph, are you in there?" It's my brother and I go to the door, flinging it open and stepping into a hug with my brother. He's obviously confused, but he hugs me back and gently pushes me back into the office, letting the door close behind him. "Steph, what's wrong?"

"Everything," I mumble into his suit jacket. He hugs me tighter and I can feel my eyes burning with tears, but I don't want to cry in front of him or anyone. I just want this night to be over and I want to wake up and forget. I wonder if Chris has any kind of power to make me forget what happened. I know that he probably wouldn't do it anyways, but I kind of hope he would.

"What do you mean everything?" he asks me as we go sit down on the couch. I stay close to him and he brushes my hair away from my face. "What happened, Steph? Why are you so upset? Did something happen with Paul? Did you guys have a fight?"

"No, Paul is great," I say morosely. Paul is the last thing I want to think about right now though. I don't want to think about him and how great he is because if I do, then I go right back to Sean. Plus, Paul has always been so great to me and I don't want Shane to think he hasn't been.

"Then what is it?" Shane asked. "Did Dad say something to you? You know that you can't listen to half of what he says, especially on show days, he's horrible to everyone. You have to let it roll off your back."

"It's not that either," I say, wiping at a tear that ran loose from my eye. "It's just…do you promise not to get mad at me? I mean, you really have to promise."

"Of course I promise."

"Um, I was just…Sean, you know, Waltman, he just, well, I went into his locker room to talk to Paul, but he wasn't there so I decided to wait and Sean was in there and he doesn't like me and he just kind of…Shane, I don't want to talk about it," I turn away from my brother, hoping that he gets the point without me needing to say the words.

"He…what? What did he do, Stephanie, I'm going to need to know what he did and…no, you know what, I think I'll find out from him just what happened."

"Stephanie!" The door flew open and Paul was there and rushing to my side and he takes me in my arms and he's hugging me. "Are you okay?"

"Paul, what's going on?" I ask him.

"I walked into my locker room and Sean was in there and he was bleeding from the head and he said that something attacked him, but he didn't know what, I guess his brains got scrambled, but he said that something attacked him and I asked what the hell he was doing in my room in the first place and he started calling you some crazy, psychic bitch or something, what happened?"

"Sean attacked her," Shane supplies and that's _not_ what I said, but I guess it's the truth at least and I don't correct him.

"He _attacked_ you?" I can tell that Paul is incensed now. "I'm going to kill him. He's a dead man, he is a goddamn dead man."

Paul starts to get up, but I tug at the hem of his shirt, "Paul, please, I just don't want any trouble, please?"

"No, not going to happen, Stephanie. I can't believe I was friends with that bastard, no more. He blew it and he can go to fucking hell for all I care at this point," he tells me while clenching and unclenching his hands.

"Please, this is just what he wants, to prove that I'm trying to control your life. That's why he didn't like me in the first place."

"I don't care, Steph," Paul insists. "He can't just get away with this."

"He won't," Shane interjects. "He's not going to. He's going to be punished and punished severely. We're not going to stand for this kind of behavior. I gotta ask though, you hit him? Is that why he was bleeding from the head?"

Both Paul and Shane are looking at me and wondering just what happened. Paul saw Sean bleeding and saying that something attacked him. If I say that it was my guardian angel, they're going to think that Sean hurt me or that I'm in too much shock to tell the truth. I look around the room, hoping that Chris will show himself so that he can tell me what to say, but I guess he's in so much shock that he had to disappear for a while. I know he's around, he _has_ to be around, he's my guardian angel and they don't just abandon you.

"I don't remember, I tried to pull away from him, I…I don't know," I lie; I know exactly what happened, but they would never believe me if I told them the truth. "I might have hit him, I just wanted to get away. He was blocking the door, as soon as I could, I got out of there and ran here. I just…I wanted to get away."

"It's okay, of course you did," Shane reassures me that I did the right thing. "You were trying to defend yourself, I'm proud of you."

He should be proud of Chris because it was Chris who saved me, not myself. I was the stupid one. I was the one that stayed in there even though Chris told me over and over that I should leave. He was the one I should have listened to the whole time, not my own stubborn thoughts. Maybe that's why he hasn't shown up yet, maybe he's angry with me because I didn't listen to him. He knows when bad things are going to happen and so he must have known something was going to happen and stubborn me didn't listen. Who could blame him for being angry after that? I imagine that if an angel is going to be angry, this is an incident that would incite it.

"Thanks," I mumble.

"You don't have to be on the show," Shane tells me, "why don't you go back to your hotel and relax for the rest of the evening? Dad and I will take care of Sean and everything."

"Okay," I don't have it in me to argue right now. Going back to the hotel and being away from all the wrestlers and wrestling in general sounds really nice right about now. And maybe Chris will come back and talk to me, if he's not mad at me that is.

"I can drive you back if you want, I'm not on until the end of the night," Paul offers.

"My dad came in a limo, we can send her back in that," Shane says, "that way you don't have to leave and come back, but you can walk her out to her car."

"Of course, anything," Paul nods and he gathers my things for me. Shane leaves me with a hug and then Paul is grabbing my hand and leading me down the hallway. "I'm so sorry that he did that to you, Steph. I didn't realize he had such a problem with you, if I had known, I would've stopped being friends with him. I care far more for you than I do for him."

"Thank you." It's a really nice thing to say and I wish that it warmed me in the way that I know he means for it to warm me. He wraps his arm around my shoulder and he's being protective of me, but it's not the type of protective that seems to break the laws of time and space. But this is the last thing I should be doing right now, comparing the two of them like this. They aren't anything alike and it's not fair to either one to compare them to the other.

Paul walks me out to the limo and I'm sure my brother called to tell him I was coming because the driver is standing by the back with the door opened, waiting for me. Paul helps me inside and kisses me briefly before closing the door. I'm locked into the darkness now and I blatantly hope that Chris will be sitting across from me or next to me, but he's still not there. He has to be mad at me, but I'm so sorry for what I did.

"Chris," I whisper into the limo, "I'm sorry, please don't be mad at me."

There's still nothing and I sigh as the driver starts taking me back to the hotel. When I'm finally in my hotel room, I change into my pajamas and order a downright heart attack of a meal. I figure I deserve it after everything. I'm waiting for room service to show up and I don't even turn on the show because I want one night away from wrestling. There comes a knock at the door and my room service smells delicious as its wheeled into my room, but still, there's no Chris.

"You know," I say when the room service guy has left. "It's not fair that this happens to me tonight and you don't show your face, Chris. You _know_ I'm terrified and you won't even be with me. How is that fair?"

There's still nothing so I figure he's not going to show his face tonight and I think him cowardly. How could he just abandon me like this? My comfort food now has more to comfort me about and I sigh and finish my food and look through the movies. There's another knock on my door and I get up, walking slowly towards it. The show isn't over, but my dad very well could have fired Sean and the first place he could have come was here.

"Who is it?" I call out, standing a few feet from the door.

"Steph, it's me." I race to the door and open it slowly.

Chris is finally here.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews, we're really reaching the climax of the story at this point so I really hope that you're enjoying what you've been reading, so enjoy and review if you want! :)

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I'm so happy to see him that I'm completely missing the obvious. Chris walks into the room and he looks sadder than I'd ever seen him, more worried, apprehensive even. I let the door fall closed by itself as I watch him. He paces around the room a little bit, his hand coming up to his mouth and running over it every so often. He doesn't exactly look at me, but somehow I feel like he's watching me or studying me. I'm not sure how he does that, but he's an angel so he can probably just sense me.

"I thought you had disappeared again," I tell him softly, not trusting my own voice not to break. I'm still wired from the encounter with Sean and I'm still a little fearful that he'll turn up and try something worse on me or succeed in what he was trying to do earlier.

"No, I wouldn't leave you after that," he tells me and his voice sounds strained, like he's forcing the words he's saying out of his mouth and it confuses me. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm okay," I nod, but he's still not looking over at me.

"You never should have gone in there," he says and he's right, I really shouldn't have gone in there and I really, _really_ shouldn't have tried to go toe to toe with Sean. He was bigger than me and stronger than me and I don't know what I was thinking challenging him like I was. I'm headstrong, but I should have used my brains and seen the situation for what it was.

"I know, I tell him."

"You could've…something could have happened to you!" He finally turns to me and he's mad. I don't think I've ever seen him even so much as raise his voice in a harsh way, but right now he's livid. His eyes are blazing and it's like I can literally see fire in them and I'm wondering what the hell he might be channeling right now.

"I know!"

"You could have been hurt! He could have hurt you…or worse, do you understand what he could have done to you!" he yells at me and I shrink back. He's almost to the point of frightening me. I don't want him to go away again, I couldn't bear it if he went away and left me here again, not after what just happened.

"I'm sorry!" I try and tell him, but he's shaking his head so vigorously that his hair is flying every which way.

"Oh, you're sorry, you're _sorry_," he says sarcastically. "I warn you time and time again to get out of there and you don't listen to me. You think you're bigger than me? You think you know better than I do? I told you to get out of there, I told you the situation was getting worse and you don't listen!"

"I _know_!" I repeat and I don't have much else to say because he's right. He did try to warn me and then I ignored him because I thought I knew what was best for me, but I didn't, I couldn't know what might happen, but Chris could and he tried to get me out of there and I was too stubborn to listen. I wonder if the people who don't see their guardian angel, I wonder if those people just defy that little voice in the back of their head as much as I do and that's why there's such corruption in the world. "What do you want me to say, Chris? What do you want me to do?"

"Do you know how worried I was about you?" his voice softens at this and the fire in his eyes are stoked down to warmth. "Do you have any idea?"

"Wait…you knocked on the door," I say, as if the cloud has been lifted from my brain. I stare at the door and then I star at him. "And you threw that chair at Sean right when he was about to get at me. How did you?"

Chris doesn't say anything and I take a few steps forward as he stands there, just staring at me, his eyes boring into mine. I don't know how my feet are moving, but they are and I'm suddenly standing in front of him and he's right there and I'm not sure what I'm going to do, but I know what I want to do. He touched that chair and he touched that door and my hand is reaching up and it's trembling so much I'm not sure I can make it up to his face.

I close my eyes and reach out and I nearly sob as I can feel him underneath my fingertips. His skin is warm and soft. It's the softest skin I've ever touched and I can feel life or something like it pulsating just beneath his skin. I open my eyes and he's still staring at me and his face suddenly becomes blurry as the tears find their way into my eyes. I pull my hand away before I launch myself at him and hug him, my arms clasping tightly around his neck and he's the most wonderful feeling in the world. He doesn't do anything at first, but then I realize he's never hugged anyone in his life (or whatever he has) before and so this must be so new to him. His arms come around my waist and I swear to God (he's probably watching) that I feel more safe in that moment than I ever have in my entire life.

"How is this possible?" I ask him, burying my face into his neck and he smells heavenly (I imagine it's heavenly since that's where he's from after all). It's musky and inviting and perfect, he's perfect, everything about him is perfect.

"I don't know," he whispers in my ear. "I don't know how this happened. I tried…I tried to follow you back, but I couldn't materialize like I usually can. I couldn't get to you, I had to walk…"

"Could…could other people see you?" I make no attempt to pull away. I want to feel like this forever. I've wrestled with my feeling for him for so long, but I always kept them in check because I knew I couldn't feel Chris. Now that I can, I'm completely gone. You might as well just check me out of the game because this is what I want, I want him and all his perfection with me always. This has to be some sort of gift, some wonderful gift I don't deserve, but one that I'm not giving back, no matter what anyone tries to do.

"No, nobody could see me," he tells me, "but I had to push open doors and things, which, I avoided doing it while others were around, the last thing I need is for people to start believing in ghosts. They don't exist, by the way, it's just minds playing tricks."

"So you have no idea how you can touch anything?" I ask him, finally pulling away so I can look at his face. He looks down at me and sighs before pulling away and sitting on the bed, making an actual depression in it. I'm quick to his side, not wanting to lose the touch, afraid that any moment, I'll try and touch him and my hand will go right through him again.

"No, I don't…when I saw you in trouble, my mind, everything inside of me just said to pick up that chair and throw it at him," Chris says with a scoff, like he's still trying to process it. "It must've been God, he must have known somehow and he must've just…let me. I don't know, I've never conversed with the guy, but the voice just demanded it so I did and then I couldn't believe it actually worked. I kept thinking as I grabbed it that this was not supposed to be happening."

"You saved me," I tell him, rubbing his shoulder. He's so much more muscular than I thought and I shouldn't be appreciating his physique at a time like this, but my hands have minds of their own.

"I had to," he says, "you're mine."

"I'm glad you did, are you okay?" I should make sure that he's okay after that. It had to be shocking for him to be able to actually touch something instead of hovering around like a ghost.

"I think so." I'm not convinced though and I lean my head to the left a little so I can catch his eye. He sighs again and looks at the wall in front of him. "I've been…I've been feeling weird for a while now."

"What do you mean, weird?"

"I've not been…like myself, not that I'm different, but something has been different. For all these years, since the moment you were born, I've been able to see ahead, see what might befall you and so many times I've coaxed you out of doing whatever that dangerous thing was. I saw this happening and I tried to help, but couldn't, it happens to the best angels sometimes, but I couldn't see past this, I couldn't…I was scared he would kill you and that's why it was the end."

"Oh," I don't know what to say to that. All this time he thought I was going to die tonight and God, how scared he must have been to see me in that room. No wonder he was able to pick up that chair, he must have thought Sean would kill me right then and there.

"I was…scared and I don't get scared, I've never been scared, but I've seen you scared so I ascribed that feeling I was having must have been fear," Chris continues. "I was scared that you weren't going to get out of there, that his intentions were far worse than I could have ever imagined. I couldn't let that happen to you. I didn't…I didn't want you to die."

"Thank you," I say for lack of anything better.

"But that's another thing, I'm not supposed to feel that way. I'm supposed to protect you, yes, but when the time comes, it's supposed to come and I'm not supposed to want to stop it. I know now you weren't supposed to die because regardless of me saving you, if it was your time, it would happen. I can't stop your death. But God help me, I thought you were going to die and I did try to stop it."

"What does that mean?" I ask him. "Does it mean you were…renouncing God or something like that? I mean, I don't want you to go against what he says, that could get us both into a lot of trouble."

I try for a joke to lighten the mood, but he doesn't laugh. He usually would laugh at my stupid jokes, but there's nothing this time and I know that this is really bothering him and why shouldn't? A few hours ago, he thought I was going to die and now we're here and he can touch things and what must he be feeling? He's never touched anything on Earth for the entire time I've been alive. He's hovered and observed, but he's never _lived_ and now he is, albeit I'm still the only one who can see him, but it doesn't matter, he's a corporal being right now.

"I've been with you your entire life. I know every detail up here," he taps his forehead. "I've got it all in there, every insignificant moment, every time you accidentally tripped on something, that one time where you chewed on the end of your pen so much that you ended up getting ink all over your face and begged your mother not to make you go to school, your first date, the first time you sat in on a production meeting, it's all in my head, neatly tucked away like little file folders, your entire life is catalogued in my brain."

"I know, I still wish I could go explore it in there," I laugh softly.

"I love you, Stephanie."

"I know you do," I tell him kindly. "That's why you were so worried about me tonight, about whether or not I would die or be safe or anything. You've loved me since the minute I was born and that's what you do. You're my angel, you obviously love me. You didn't want to see me go."

"I didn't," he shakes his head. "I would've moved heaven and earth to keep you safe. I would have put in a personal appeal to the man himself."

"Such high honors," I tell him, pretending to be completely flattered and a little part of me is flattered at what he's saying.

"No, Stephanie, you're not getting what I'm saying. I've watched you, I've observed and…there's this feeling inside of me and I can't explain it and I've never felt it, never like this and I've seen it though, I've seen it plenty of times and I think I know what it is, but I've never felt it like this before."

"What do you feel?" I wonder curiously. He turns his head to me and he just stares at me, just stares until it actually starts to become unnerving. He's staring at me and I want to look away, the urge to look away is almost overwhelming, but that fire is back in his eyes except it's a different kind of fire, a cooler kind of fire that scares me in a completely different way than the fire in his eyes did before. This fire is so intense that my own eyes widen, waiting for his words as I feel like I can't breathe.

"I'm in love with you."


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and everything, everyone! Things are starting to pick up and so I hope you enjoy the story and review if you want to. :)

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They're the last words I expect to hear.

I think that's why I'm sitting here, staring at him, not saying anything because I think my brain is not working. I don't know what to say and I kind of wish I could see my face right now because it's probably in so much shock I'd laugh at myself for looking like this. I want to tell him so many things, I want to tell him that I've been wanting this for so long, that I never dared hope. I almost literally wish I could rip my heart out of my chest and just present it to him.

He looks down though and takes a sigh, "I shouldn't have put that on you. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…I know it's wrong and it violates probably every rule in the world that I have and your world too and I shouldn't…"

"Chris…" I breathe his name because I don't think my voice can go any higher right now. I'm not sure I want it to because if I raise my voice, maybe the spell will be broken and I'll be sitting here alone again. Except he can't disappear, he's here and I can feel him, that has to mean he can't leave me again, right? He can't just go away again.

"I've been struggling with this for a while. Ever since you started talking to me again. Not right that second or anything. I mean, it was after, when you started talking back, when you were…you. I shouldn't be in love with you…that's not part of the job description. I mean, I'm supposed to love you, but not be in love with you. I shouldn't hate Paul for being with you. I shouldn't want you not to die. I should be following the rules and I'm not and here I am and I don't understand it. I don't understand any of this."

I nod. I still don't know what I'm supposed to say or do. Do I reach over and kiss him? Do I tell him I feel the same way? Should I go break up with Paul because I'm not entirely sure that Chris would be willing to help me cheat. I'm not totally convinced he's not been banished, but if he has it would make it easier. Not that any of this is easy or explainable. It's all confusing and I've still not really said anything.

"I'm sorry, I'm rambling," Chris says nervously, running a hand through his hair. "Everything feels so weird. I've never felt anything, literally, I mean, I've never touched anything before. This bed is kind of hard." I laugh and he looks up at me, his eyes soft and so full of love that I feel like I'm stumbling through some abyss that is the ocean of his eyes. God created angels to be perfect and Chris is demonstrating that right now. "I'm just in love with you. I love everything about you. I love how you get pissed at me and I love how you sleep, God, I sound crazy. Please say something."

"I feel the same way," I finally tell him, my voice still quiet and almost revere when I say it, like the words aren't even right, like they are completely the wrong words, but I'm still saying them. He lets out a breath, a _breath_, an_ actual_ breath and he looks so relieved. I grab his hand and hold in mine. "I never…I tried…"

"Yes?" he asks expectantly and I'm really trying so hard not to lose it right now. I feel like I'm on the edge of a cliff. Like if I just allow myself, I'll fall right over.

"I didn't allow myself to think about it. I suppressed it because I knew there was no way we could be together," I tell him. "I've tried not to even think it because I didn't know if you could read my thoughts or anything and I didn't want to get my hopes up and you would say such beautiful things and I would…"

I can feel the tears start in my eyes and then I'm sobbing and he's scooting closer to me and holding me and I lean against his chest because he feels so damn _good_. Everything about him just feels so damn good and I want to curl up against him so I do and I'm crying and he's just stroking my hair and this is everything I've ever wanted. I never believed I could get it, but now that I have it…I don't know what's going to happen next and because of that, I pull away and I wipe at my eyes.

"You're beautiful," Chris tells me. "I've always thought so. Even when you refused to talk to me or acknowledge my presence, I've always thought you were beautiful. You might even be more beautiful now."

I reach out and touch his cheek, smiling at him. "I'm going to kiss you."

Chris laughs, "You always have been a girl who knows what she wants, right?"

I nod, "I know what I want and I want to kiss you so much right now that if I don't, I might just die anyways."

"Don't," he says and I expect him to lean in, but then I remember that he's never kissed anyone before. He's been on this plane of existence for all these years and he's never been kissed before. He seems to recognize the recognition on my face and he bites his lip. "I've never kissed anyone."

"I'll show you," I tell him kindly as I lean forward and press my lips against his. He doesn't know what to do at first as he sits still, but an angel's instincts must be pretty damn good because he gets into it soon after. His lips press against mine and then his hands are cupping my neck as he tries to pull me closer.

I wish I could quantify this kiss. I wish there were words that could signify what this means, what it's like to kiss someone so ethereal. It's like kissing perfection. It's like taking everything you've ever liked in the world and smashing it together and then giving it a big, wet one right on the lips. That's what it feels like, almost, because I really can't describe how good it feels, how right it feels. I feel like every other kiss I've ever had before this has been insignificant.

Suddenly, I know what Chris meant when he said that I'd never been in real love before. I'd fought him on that point so many times, told him all the time that I had been in love and who was he to say that I hadn't. Now I know, he was right, I hadn't been in love. This _has_ to be what love feels like. It just has to because if anything could possibly top this, then I will just spontaneously combust. I guess Chris has finally realized that he needs to breathe between kisses because he's pulling away now and taking deep breaths, sucking in air rapidly.

"Wow," he tells me or says to the air I guess, I'm not clear who he's addressing, "Wow…"

"I know," I respond whether or not he was talking to me. "I love you."

"I love you too," he tells me, biting his lip again and staring at me. "I don't know where we go from here, Steph. I don't know what's happening or why it's happening. I'm just not sure. I had your life in my brain and then suddenly it stopped and I don't know what's next."

"We may only have tonight," I tell him, hoping that I'm being just suggestive enough, but if tonight really is the only one I'll get with Chris where I'm able to touch him and kiss him, you better believe I'm taking advantage of it. I've denied myself the feelings for so long that I'm not taking the chance that there will be a tomorrow. I want Chris, all of him, _all_ of him and I'm willing to force him into this if that's what it takes.

"We might," Chris says, "my brain is fuzzy, like I can't think, not like I usually do. Usually I have more awareness and now all I can think about is you."

"Wasn't I pretty much all you thought about before?" I joke with him. He laughs and leans forward, initiating another kiss, though this one is far too brief and his lips are like magnets because I don't want to break the kiss and my lips linger on his as he pulls away.

"You were, but I had a bigger picture going on. Whatever happened in Paul's locker room earlier seemed to have broken something inside of me."

"The holographic nature of your existence?"

"Apparently," he nods. "I don't know what to do now."

"You be with me," I say to him. "That's all you have to do. You just have to stay with me tonight, okay. I don't want you to be anywhere else except here with me. You are…I want you, Chris, I want you."

"I want you too."

"No, I don't think you understand, I _want_ you, Chris," I say slowly, letting my eyes drift over his body, hoping he'll get the point. He's not stupid and his eyes widen slightly as he regards me.

"Oh…_oh_," Chris nods slowly, "I wouldn't know how, I don't exactly, I mean, I've seen—"

"Can we not discuss how you probably have seen me with other men?" I beg of him. "I know you don't, but I have and I can show you if you'd like…I want to be with you, Chris. If this is the only night we have, I want it to be spent doing everything I can with you."

"Paul…" He reminds me. Why did he have to remind me? Oh yeah, that's right, because he's an angel and an angel would never condone cheating. So here I am at a crossroads. I may get this one night with Chris and then it may be taken away from me tomorrow. If that happens and I break up with Paul, then that's it, I'm alone again. But then if I don't break up with Paul, I might lose this opportunity and I'm not sure I can go the rest of my life without doing this.

"I'll be back," I tell him, making my decision and it's really an easy one. I want Chris. I've been denying I wanted him for so long and I'm done with that. I want him and I want to be with him and if that comes at the sacrifice of a relationship that doesn't mean that much to me in the first place, then so be it.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to break up with him," I tell Chris.

"Wait, Stephanie, are you sure?" he asks me. I stand up and he follows suit. I'm looking for my shoes and he's following right behind me. I find them and I stand up, turn around and Chris is right in my face. I'm startled and I almost stumble backwards, but he grabs onto me. "I'm sorry, I'm still not used to this having a real body thing. I'm so used to standing close to you without you being able to feel me."

"It's okay," I shrug, "and I am sure. I'm very sure that this is what I want. I know that it goes against all your morals to cheat so I'm going to do the right thing and then I'm going to come back here and I'm going to spend every moment I can with you. And if you're here in the morning, then you're going to have yourself a girlfriend."

He tests the weight of those words. "A girlfriend, wow, that's…a girlfriend…I never thought I'd have one of those…" He seems to remember himself though, "I don't want you to rush into anything. I mean, I love you, but I don't want you to do anything you might regret."

I grab his hand and bring it up to my lips, kissing his hand. "I want to, I would never regret this. I love you too much for that."

He grins at me, "I love you too, which is why I don't want to force you into anything."

"Okay, Chris, for one night, try not to be too much of an angel, okay," I wink at him and it seems to ease him a little bit.

"I will certainly try," he tells me, nodding as if convincing himself that it's okay to be a human for one night or however long this will last. Like when I was trying to hide my love for Chris, I don't dare hope that I might get more than one night. One day at a time is my motto for right now, but I'm hoping that I'll get forever, I really hope I'll get forever. But first things first, I have to take care of Paul. I lean up and give Chris another kiss, just one to sustain me.

"I'll be back."


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and everything, guys. I'm loving this story, but I don't know how much longer it'll go. It kind of feels like it's wrapping up, but then, I don't really know because I still have plans for it, so I guess we'll see how it goes, shall we? Hope you enjoy the chapter, and reviews are always welcome and appreciated! :)

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I want to pinch myself.

Actually, no, scratch that, I want to dance down this hallway, skipping, jumping, squealing, generally acting like a fool. I want to sky-dive or bungee jump or just…no, I want to get back to Chris right now. Would it be inappropriate and mean if I were to go to Paul's hotel room, tell him it's over before he even lets me in the door, then madly sprint back to my hotel room? Because this is my thought process right now. I know I'm not taking Paul's feelings into consideration, but I have Chris, in solid form, sitting on my bed, wanting to be with me.

If that doesn't take precedent over everything else, I don't know what will.

It's not like I didn't care for Paul, I _did_ care for him, but that was all it was, caring. I liked him, he was a nice guy, he treated me well, but as for the sparks, they were never there. I tried to imagine them being there because I never thought Chris would be…well, whatever he is right now. I try to push any thoughts of Chris being here temporarily because I'm not sure my heart could take that right now, and I'd rather not think this is some one-time deal.

I want it to be a forever deal, if that's at all possible, God. I mean, the guy exists, Chris told me, so he has to have some hand in this. I'm not sure what I did that got me here. I'm not sure if God is rewarding me or…or if, in a very short time, he's going to be punishing me. I quickly scan over my life, nope, no murders, no pillaging, stealing, I think I'm good. I hope I'm good, I can't think of any reason to be punished so this has to be a gift, Chris _has_ to be a gift.

I finally reach Paul's hotel room. I remember the number because he gave it to me earlier that evening, asking if I wanted to hang out. I remember telling him I would think about it, but I had no intention of ever going. Now I'm here, and I suddenly realize he's going to think I want to hang out with him, but I'm going to have to crush him. The brevity of what I'm about to do suddenly comes crashing on me, and I turn to talk to Chris, only to remember he's not here with me.

It's so strange not to have him next to me, saying something sarcastic to make me forget all my troubles. It's just plain weird being all alone for the first time since forever. Even when I didn't talk to Chris, I knew he was there. I would see him, for so long I would see him, and now I'm looking up at down the hallway, but I'm all alone. I wonder if he can feel my presence. I wonder if he knows what I'm feeling. What part of ourselves is still connected? Is he human, or is he just some divine being sent down from heaven (literally!) to be with me?

It's all so confusing, but before I know it, I'm knocking on his door. I'm tired of leaving Chris waiting. I want to spend every moment I can with him. Paul answers the door and his eyes light up with concern and happiness, "Steph, I'm so glad you're here."

He pulls me into a hug and I cringe. His touch has suddenly gone cold, feeling like a foreign virus all over my skin. I miss Chris's touch and I've only had it for mere minutes. I've already memorized it, committed it to memory. He could already be gone by the time I get back. Oh God, please, I beg of you, don't let him be gone when I come back. "Hi," I tell him awkwardly and when I know I sound awkward, that's when you really know it's awkward.

"How are you doing? I wanted to go by your room, but I didn't want to overwhelm you. Your dad fired Sean, he's out of there, escorted out by security," Paul tells me. I would be nervous for him coming after me, but I have Chris, and he would never let anything bad happen to me. He would never let anyone get to me. He didn't before and he wouldn't now.

"I'm okay," I assure him, kind of pulling away, both because I don't want him touching me and to show him that I'm fine. His eyes scrape over me slowly, as if looking for some kind of damage. There isn't any, and it's all because of Chris. He's the one who saved me, kept me away from harm, like he's been doing my entire life.

"Good, I was so worried about you. I can't believe I ever called that guy my friend. I would never want anything to happen to you."

"Paul," I dive in headfirst because there's no easy way to do this, there is only one way, straight through his heart. "I need to talk to you."

"What's up, what's going on?" he asks because he can tell I'm serious. I'm going to blindside him right now, I know it.

"It's just…it's just," I stumble because he really is a nice guy, "I know this is going to sound cliché, and I apologize for it, but I think everyone has that perfect person for them, and I just don't think I'm yours. I know you're right for someone, but I just don't think you're right for me."

"Steph, I don't understand," his brow furrows as he looks at me, confusion clouding his features. I wish Chris were here, peeking over Paul's shoulders, perhaps giving him rabbit ears to diffuse my tension.

"I just don't think we're working out—"

"Stephanie, if I had known at all that Sean was going to act that way towards you, you know I would have dropped him as a friend a long time ago. I never would have let him treat you like that, if I knew things were that bad, I would have kicked his ass myself."

I should have known he would go there. I should have known that's where his mind would have immediately gone. I shake my head a few times, "No, Paul, no, it hasn't anything to do with Sean. I'm glad you were pissed because he's a bad friend for doing what he did. This is just about us. I know I haven't been the best girlfriend lately, I've barely been a girlfriend, period, and I'm sure you've noticed."

"I—"

"Please, let me finish," I interrupt him. "I've just been thinking about the two of us, about where I want this to go. I hesitated. I knew you felt more for me and when you would say nice things, sweet things, they just didn't warm me up like they should. I just think when you're in love with someone, when they speak to you, it should mean something, it should make you feel something."

I think to when Chris talks to me, the way his words have warmed my body for so long. That's something Paul should have. I used him. I used him because he was alive and breathing. I used him because I couldn't have what I wanted. It wasn't fair to him, and if I could tell him all of this, I would, but there's no way he'd believe me."

"And I just didn't make you feel like that," he says morosely, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I'm sorry," I tell him remorsefully. I never should have let it get this far, but I was so convinced I could learn to love this man out of necessity, but that's not what love should be. It's never what love should be. "I really am, Paul. Believe me when I say it's nothing you did. It's just, I just think there's more for both of us. I won't say that tired line of, 'can we be friends?' but know that I do hope it can come true someday."

"Can you please leave?" he asks me. I just nod. He speaks again, "I don't hate you. But…I just can't look at you right now. I just don't want to look at you right now."

"I understand," I whisper, holding my chin high even though I want to hug him and…I don't know, sob against him because I hate hurting people like this. Chris once told me I have a big heart, and I guess I do because suddenly Paul's pain is mirrored in myself.

"I don't hate you, Steph, and I really am glad you're okay, just so you know."

"I know," I reach out to touch his arm. "I don't want you to blame yourself, it's just the universe telling us that this isn't right."

"Yeah, I guess," he mumbles.

"I'll go now," I know he wants me to leave, and I don't want to stay here and see him this sad.

He just nods, not even bothering with words, and I feel like crap. But then, as I step out into the hallway, I know what I'm going back to, and something lifts inside of me. I know I was never in love with Paul, so I guess I'm not as torn up about it. I feel bad for what I did, but I can't feel bad for _why_ I did it. Even if Chris had never become whatever it is he is right now, it wouldn't have worked with Paul. I can only hope someday we can be civil to each other, maybe even friends.

As fast as I came to Paul's room, I think I'm twice as fast going back to mine. Chris is waiting there. I jog towards the elevators and I must have pushed the up button about fifty times. I might break it I hit it so many times, impatient for the elevator to arrive. It appears to go slowly, too slowly, so slowly that I'm contemplating taking the stairs, maybe three at a time if I can. Just when I'm about to turn and make a break for it, one of the elevators dings and I rush to stand in front of it like if I don't, it'll just bypass the floor entirely.

I climb inside, pray that it doesn't stop mid-floor, and then watch the numbers ascend until I get to my floor. I'm off the elevator before the doors even open all the way. Call me desperate, I don't really care. Chris is waiting for me. I have to seize the day. Carpe diem if there was ever a day for it. I grab my keycard out of my pocket, shoving it into the door, too quickly, and I get that damned red light. Damn you, red light! I want the green light. I take a deep breath and insert the keycard the correct way. I smile proudly like this is some accomplishment.

I push open the door and step inside, expecting to see Chris sitting on the couch. He's not, I frown, I walk into the bedroom, and he's not there either and I panic. I just panic. I can feel my heart pounding as I'm thinking no, no, no, no, no, you couldn't have just given me the taste and nothing more. I almost want to grip the doorway because I'm fairly positive my knees are shaking. God can't be this cruel! He just can't do this to me!

Just when I'm about to curse God and all of his disciples, then run off to sacrifice a virgin to Satan, Chris emerges from the bathroom. "There you are!" I exclaim, probably much more enthusiastically then he's expecting.

"I was washing my hands," Chris holds them up to show me how clean they are. They might as well sparkle. "It's just weird touching things, my hands felt weird."

I laugh at his cuteness, walking over to him and grabbing both his cheeks. His eyes widen as I lean forward and kiss him with enough force to let God feel how much I'm in love with this man. He's still not used to the kissing thing because he puckers up his lips too much. I slowly coax him to relax with my lips, and he finally gets the hang of it. I know I'm being aggressive, but someone has to take the lead and considering I'm the only one in the room who's actually felt…well, anything in the entire world, I know it has to be me.

"How did it go with Paul?" Chris asks me while I'm trying to kiss him. God bless him, he doesn't realize the _last _thing I want to do is talk about Paul.

"It went fine," I kind of lie. I mean, there wasn't anything thrown or harsh words, just quiet acceptance.

"Fine?"

"Chris, please, I love you, but you don't have to be my guardian angel tonight," I let him know because he's acting like one, trying to make sure I'm okay. I want to keep kissing him, I want to let him touch me, that's all I want, just that, not words, I've had enough words with Chris, too many words with Chris. I'm done with the words, done with them!

He looks at me in confusion though, like he suddenly lost his footing. "I don't…I don't know how to be anything else."

"What?" I'm not sure I understand.

"I'm just…I've been yours for so long, I'm not entirely sure how not to…how to turn off being your guardian angel," he tells me, his brow furrowing in confusion. I know it must be hard for him. There wasn't even a moment of transition. He just picked up something and threw it, that's it, that was the moment of cognizance so to speak.

I lightly brush my hand across his cheek. "You just have to care about me, love me, that's all you have to do, that's safety enough, Chris. You've done your job perfectly, believe me, I'm still here, and I'm healthy, and so happy, so happy I think I may just burst like Violet Beauregard from _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_."

"I love you too," he tells me simple, trying to let go of who he was. I know he's not ready to completely let go, but for once, I get to help him.

"I want you, Chris," I tell him, repeating what I'd said earlier. He looks down, and it seems like he's almost embarrassed. I tilt his chin up and he's actually blushing. I smile and give him a peck on the lips. "Don't be scared."

"I'm not scared," he protests. "I've just never really…" The words hang in the air. I don't care what he hasn't though, I just care that he _is_.

"Don't worry, let me show you."


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: Thank you SO much for the reviews and faves and everything, so much appreciated. Since we're getting down to the nitty-gritty, I had to move this rating up to M. I don't think it's TOO M, but I needed to take the precaution because of the content of the chapter. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and reviews would be lovely, thanks! :)

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I can't tell him I'm nervous because I know he's nervous, and I don't want to frighten him. He's kind of like a deer in the headlights right now, and I don't want to be the truck that barrels over him. So I just kiss him, leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss to his mouth. He's a quick learner though because soon his tongue is pressing against my mouth. I should have known he'd be quick on his feet, he's made from perfection after all.

I laugh a little at my own stupid joke, and he pulls away to look at my face, "Am I doing something wrong?"

He's worried, and it's adorable. I just want to be with him forever, if that's possible, and I know it is, well, sort of, I don't know how long he's going to be here and I have to make sure I take advantage of him here. I nod and give him a smile, "I was just thinking about how you're such a quick learner, it's cute."

"I'm just kind of doing what you were doing," he tells me and he brushes my hair back. He's good at this touching thing, knowing what he wants to do, how he wants to do it. I wonder how long he's thought about this. I wonder how many times his hands may have itched wanting to push my hair out of my face. I reach up and grasp his hand in my own, keeping it next to my face, as I turn my head to kiss his palm.

"You don't have to impress me," I tell him.

"I wasn't planning on it," he says, then he laughs, "that doesn't exactly sound like a ringing endorsement for myself, does it?"

"Not really, but you're pretty perfect as it is," I respond, and it's kind of true. He is perfect, maybe it's perfect for me, but there's something beyond that. God made him this way, specifically for me. I ask a question that neither of us can answer, "How did this happen, Chris?"

"I'm not sure," he admits, and he's always sincere so there's really nothing about this that's familiar to him. I shouldn't care how this happened, but my mind still tries to unravel this mystery.

I decide to forget about the hows for a moment and I instead ask, "When did you fall in love with me?"

"The moment you were born," he responds immediately, and damn it, if it were any other guy, I wouldn't believe them, I'd laugh in their face and tell them to quit with the lines, but Chris can't lie, he has to tell the truth, and this is his truth. So I just smile and I reach out to rub his cheek.

"That's not what I meant."

"I don't know, one second I was just…I couldn't think about…I don't know," he says, frowning as he tries to pinpoint a moment. I can see a parade of moments flashing in his eyes, like he's scanning them all and analyzing them to try and find the right one. "They just all…every moment…"

"I get it," I finally let him off the hook. Instead, I lean forward again and kiss him. He responds eagerly, and inwardly I cheer. This man wants me, no, this _angel_ wants me. Do you know what it's like to feel wanted by a being that has known all the wonders of God and the angels and all of that? Let me tell you, it feels pretty damn good. I scoot myself further up on the bed and wrap my arms around his neck. I start slowly moving myself down onto the mattress, pulling Chris down with me.

I'm not sure if he knows exactly what I'm doing, but he's taking lead pretty well. His hands land on my waist, giving me a slight squeeze and then I'm startled as he pulls away and pulls me further up on the bed. He gives me a grin and I think my mouth is going to split right up to my ears. I don't have time to smile though because his lips are back on mine, expertly exploring my mouth. I run my hands up and under his shirt, and holy mother of God, his abs are perfection. Now I know he's real and everything, but there's something so unreal about his body. I run my hands all the way up his chest, bunching his shirt under his arms. I want it off because I want to see his body so I grab the hem and start lifting it up.

He pulls away briefly to let me get the t-shirt over his head and yes, my God, crafted from perfection. Do all angels look like this because if they do, it's just unfair, it's just too damn unfair. I run my hands over him again, checking to make sure if he's real. I look up into his eyes and he's looking at me amusedly. I blush because I probably look like I'm awestruck or something. He leans in and he kisses my cheek then the corner of my mouth before we continue this heated makeout session, but I want more, I need more.

Chris lays flush on top of me, my hips cradling his legs and I can feel him getting aroused through his jeans. I wonder if this is the first time he's ever been aroused. That's a strange thought, not one I want to dwell on because the chances of him seeing me naked before are 100% or at least very close to that. "Chris, have you seen me naked?" I don't even know where that came from, but I'm suddenly mumbling the question against his lips.

"Excuse me?" he pulls away and why am I still talking and not doing this with him? Oh yeah, I wanted to savor every moment of being with him, that's right. Except now I'm not savoring, I'm asking dumb questions.

"Um, have you seen me naked? I mean, you're always around, so you must have, right?"

"Yes, I have, but I wasn't looking at you like a pervert," he tells me.

"I never thought that, I just…it kind of ruins the surprise, you know, that moment where you're kind of like nervous to see that person, and the kind of like, oh wow, this is it, nothing is between us moment, I mean…I don't know how to say it properly."

"I think I'm still going to pretty much be awed, Steph."

Okay, can I just love him forever already? The way he says that…I'm momentarily blinded by the love I feel for him, but then his hand is on the hem of my shirt and he's tentatively reaching underneath it. His hands skim against my stomach, feathery light, and I gasp at the contact. I wasn't expecting it, but he's so gentle it's like a butterfly's wings battering against my skin. He looks at me, asking with his eyes if this is okay and I nod imperceptibly, but he moves upward, his touch becoming firmer as he goes higher and higher.

His hand reaches its destination and suddenly things start to get really intimate. He looks at me again to make sure he's doing this alright and I moan in appreciation as his hands knead my breast. He smiles proudly, like he's just figured out everything the universe and I need to kiss him again. I pull him down as our lips meet for the hundredth time that evening. I'm done with things going slowly, and I'm done with talking. I don't want to talk to him any longer. I've spent years talking to him, I've spent years seeing him, now I just want to feel and taste him, that's it.

I arch up against his hand as he massages my sensitive skin. He doesn't need lessons for this. I would say it's human nature, but he's not human. It just must be divine intervention because he knows what he's doing. I pull away for a second to rip my shirt off my body since he's not taking the initiative and he stares down at me in wonder. He probably doesn't know how he got to this point either, but I think, no, no, I _know_ he's enjoying it. I can feel how much he's enjoying it as he's pressed against the lower half of my body. All I care about though is that we got to this point.

I haven't felt this good with anyone in my entire life. There are certain moments where you just know everything is perfect, and this is it. I have never felt like this with any man in my entire life, and now I know why. It's because of Chris. This was meant to happen. If knowing God exists and having a guardian angel has taught me anything, it's that things are meant to happen. This was always meant to happen. This is how things always had to be. Chris _had_ to talk to me that night, I _had_ to fall in love with him. Our paths have been the same since…forever.

The problem with Chris not ever having been with a woman or touched a woman is that he's kind of focusing on one thing…or two if we're being blunt. I gently flip him over so I'm straddling him and I gaze down at him as his eyes widen, probably realizing this is really going to happen. I run my nails over his skin before I reach back and unhook my bra, letting the fabric loose as I pull it off and throw it to parts unknown. Chris's eyes widen even further, and I'm suddenly not worried that he's seen me naked before because the look on his face is just that right tinge of awe.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers as he stares at me.

"You're not so bad yourself," I joke with him as his hands rest on my waist. I grind myself against him and he groans, the strain probably too much for him to bear. I reach down and undo his belt and then unzip his pants. I make sure he's watching as I do this. I bite my lip in anticipation, rolling off him so I can pull his pants down. I wonder, but only for a moment, how he got clothes in the first place. I mean, I know he had them on all the time, but where did they come from. No matter, I'm leaving him in his boxers, and it's clear just how much he wants me. I smirk up at him and I reach to undo my own pants, but he's standing up in front of me.

"Let me," he says, stopping my hand from going any further. I let go of my fly as he reaches forward, hands trembling a little bit as he slowly undoes the buttons on my pants, ripping the zipper down slowly and then shedding me of my pants and underwear at the same time. He gulps audibly as he stands there, gazing down at my body, taking in everything as I stand there, uninhibited and vulnerable. "God…you're amazing."

"Thanks," I say for lack of anything better to say. His hands skim over my sides before he leans down to kiss me, his lips trailing down my neck as they make their way to my chest. He gives me wet, open mouth kisses as I throw my head back, loving the way his tongue finds the peaks and valleys of my skin. The air cools me every time he leaves one spots and find another. His hand sneaks its way down to the apex of my thighs and a couple fingers brush against my wetness and I gasp as he sinks his fingers into me. Well, he certainly didn't need a lesson with _that_.

"Is this okay?" he breathes against my breast.

"God yes…" I can barely get the words out because my brain is on fire from his touch. I haven't been with a guy in a while so I feel extra sensitive to his every ministration. He moves his fingers and I have to grasp onto him to steady myself as I press my lips against his neck. He's kissing where his lips can find skin, my neck, my shoulder, everywhere.

I want him to continue, but I want to feel him inside of me even more, so I blindly reach down to grab at his boxers, pushing them down so they pool around his feet. I chance a look down and…oh God is good, God is _very_ good. I don't know why he decided to bless Chris, but Lord, you have blessed Chris. I feel like saying a prayer right then and there, but instead, I think God will forgive me for my next actions as I grasp Chris and return the favor he's giving me. Chris nearly jerks out of my grasp as the sensation is probably nothing he's ever felt before.

"Oh geez," he grunts, "holy…"

"Oh yes, holy is right," I nip at his neck. "I need you, Chris, right now. I can't wait any longer."

He just nods, and I think my hand has made him speechless. I push him back on the bed as he kicks off his boxers and I kick away my underwear. I give him one long lick as he moans loudly and then I move so I'm lying on the bed. I beckon him and he eagerly scrambles over me. "Are you sure about this?" he has the decency to ask me, looking so sweet and innocent.

"Of course," I tell him, pulling him over me. I grasp him in my hand and guide him inside of me. He goes slow, agonizingly slow and I wrap my legs around his ass to prompt him to go forward, to quicken his pace because I want him, all of him.

When he's finally seated, I think I see heaven. Actually, it's just Chris, but he might as well be heaven because I'm so sure at this moment we were meant for each other. He lets me get used to him, and he's so good at this, I almost wonder if he's done it before…maybe he's been studying…okay, gross thought. "Can I move?" he whispers in my ear. I nod against his neck, burying my face into his scent.

Yup, I definitely see heaven. He feels so good, he might not have ever done this before, but my God, is he good at it! He hits every right place, every spot inside my body that has me crying out and arching my hips and meeting his every thrust. He whispers nonsensical words to me in between heated kisses. I feel my climax coming at me like a freight train. I wish I could just hold onto this moment forever, and I might as well soon. His thrusts become erratic and I know he's close too.

"Let it go, Chris, just let it go," I tell him and he buries his face into my neck as he reaches the pinnacle. I feel myself let go a moment later and it's breathtaking. His weight above me, around me, inside of me, it's all so overwhelming, and I almost feel like crying from how beautiful and wonderful this moment is. It's everything I've been waiting for. Chris was so right when he said I'd never been in love. This is love, right here, this is all love, it's encompassing, it's more than I ever thought it would be.

Chris rests on top of me, his weight not bothersome at all. "Wow…wow, now I know why you always liked _that_."

I can't help but laugh as I run my fingers through his hair. "I love you, Chris."

"God, I love you, Stephanie."

This is simply perfection.


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and reads and faves and everything. Hope you enjoy the chapter, let me know what you think. :)

* * *

I laugh as Chris tickles my side. I don't even know how this started, but I think we're both so incredibly happy that we don't even know what we're doing. We're still in bed, I don't think either one of us wants to really get out of it, like there's a spell on the bed, and suddenly everything will disappear if we aren't right next to each other. I lay on my side to face him and he mirrors my position. He reaches out and brushes some of my hair out of my face. I think I feel my heart fluttering as his fingertips just barely brush my skin.

"You feel nice," he tells me, his voice as soft as his touch. His lips quirk up into a little smirk and I laugh airily.

"Well, you've never felt much of anything, I should find a kitten or something, and then you'll know what soft really is."

"A kitten?" he laughs. "No, I don't think it can compare to your skin. That was pretty crazy…I mean, I've never felt anything like that before, I never knew something like that even existed."

"Well, you've had it pretty crummy being an ethereal being and all that," I joke with him, reaching out and grabbing his hand, lacing our fingers together. I pull our joined hands towards me and cradle them against my chest.

"It's just that…I mean, I felt God's love and all of that, that's what consumed me," he tells me, "but what we just did, I mean, yeah, I kind of get it now why Adam would give up everything and eat that apple…by the way, that's just a metaphor story, it didn't actually happen that way, just so you know."

"I kind of figured," I tell him. There're so many things I want to talk about, but there's one thing I really want to know, so I decide that now is as good a time as any to ask. "What did you…I mean to say, when did it all come together for you, it's just, how did you go from being an angel to being…in love with me, like, I just, I know you said you fell in love with me when I was born, but when did _this_ develop? How did it, how are you able to?"

"I don't have the answers you're looking for, Stephanie," he answers, "I just know what I know, like I always have. Except now it's different, now it feels different. I'm not sure…I'm not sure I was always supposed to just stay your angel. I mean, yeah, I talk to other angels, and it just always seemed something was off about it, but I kind of just went with the flow because I trusted in what God put me here for. I trusted in his wisdom and love, so I kept doing what I thought was right. Then suddenly, you were there, and I don't know, you finally acknowledged that I was something."

"I never knew, I mean, I knew, but part of me thought I was crazy, that you were some crazy figment of my imagination."

"I know, I know you tried to block me out, and I get it, nobody wants to talk to the creepy thing that just stands there and stares at you all day," Chris laughs again. "When we talked, it was different, and then when you were with Paul, I tried not to be, but there was this sick feeling that rose in me, jealousy I think you called it, and yes, I think that's what it was."

I smile because he seems so confused as to what jealousy may mean. There's so much he doesn't know about our world, so much that he has to experience, but I want to be there for all of it. "Do you want to be with me? Like really be with me?"

"Stephanie, I became, um, human for you," he chuckles, "if that doesn't say we're meant to be, I'm not really sure what is. I mean, I've only had eyes for you for the past—"

"Chris, you were my guardian angel, of course you only had eyes for me, but this world is a lot different, you can go out now. You can actually do stuff that doesn't involve staying within fifteen feet of me at all times. You're going to need friends, and clothes, and a job, though that shouldn't be too difficult since I can get you one, but you have to build a life."

"Then I want to build it with you," he says with conviction. "I didn't come this far, I didn't go through all this just to find some inconsequential female that isn't you. Let them fall in love with their own guardian angel."

I giggle and bring his hand up to my lips, kissing his knuckles. Everything about him is so soft and welcoming. His body is perfection, like nothing I've ever experienced before, and God didn't skimp on anything when it came to Chris. In fact, he was rather generous, which, if Chris is right and this was his destiny all along, I must have done something good somewhere along the line. Being with Chris was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. Oh, I've liked sex, believe me, I've liked it, but this was so far above and beyond.

Maybe all angels are just born with this God-given talent (pun intended), but Chris is still angelic in a lot of ways, even if he's in human form. "There were so many nights I just wanted to reach out and touch you, just to see if you weren't real, just to see if my hand still passed through you."

"Me too," he confesses. "Sometimes I would just watch you when you were looking, and I would reach out as if to touch you, only to remind myself that I couldn't, that there was no way I could."

"And now we can and we have," I want all of this to be real. I want it to be real tomorrow, and the day after, and the year after, and I want to know everything and anything about Chris, and I want to introduce him to everything he may have missed.

"Okay," he grins immediately and I'm about to answer when we both hear his stomach grumbling. I stare down at his stomach and he's looking down too like he's grown another appendage. "What the hell?" he mutters.

"Chris, you're hungry," I pat his stomach with my free hand. "That just means you're hungry, remember, you always tease me when my stomach growls and I haven't eaten, then you tell me I need to eat and you practically coerce me into it."

"I know, but that was weird," he tells me, looking up in wonder. "It felt weird, and yes, food might be nice, but what do I even want to eat? I've never eaten before, what would I like?"

"Well, I'll get you a cheeseburger and fries, and an ice cream sundae because we're celebrating tonight," she told him, "I could go for some spaghetti and meatballs. I'll order room service."

I make a move to get out of bed, but before I can, I hear Chris growl and he's tugging me back, "You're not allowed to get out of this bed without giving me a proper kiss," he tells me, attacking my neck with kisses and little nibbles of my skin. I try to push him away, but he's having none of that and I'm laughing and falling against the pillows.

"I thought you were hungry," I tease him, moving my mouth away whenever he tries to lean down and kiss me. He frowns and starts kissing my neck.

"I know, I just wanted to kiss you a little more, sue me, I can't get enough of it. Now I know why you snuck out of your house to go make out with that guy, Dayton, in high school."

"Oh, you jerk!" I exclaim in mock indignation, pushing his body away as I slide out from under him. I stick my tongue out at him as I get off the bed, not bothering to hide my nudity. He's seen me naked more times than I can count, so being naked in front of him is nothing uncomfortable. He leans against the headboard as I go grab the room service menu. I skim through it, seeing if there's anything else I might get, then I order the food.

It comes up pretty quickly, and I slip on a robe to go get the food and tip the waiter. I push the cart into the bedroom and Chris is quickly crawling towards the end of the bed towards the food. He's slipped on some boxers while I was out of the room and I lament the loss of the view. "Oh my God, that smells so good."

"What does?"

"Everything," he says with excitement, grabbing one of the cloches and pulling it up, seeing his cheeseburger underneath it. "My mouth feels like it's watering right now. Should I be this hungry?"

"Seeing as how you haven't eaten anything ever, yes, I'm guessing you should be," I joke, kneeling next to him. I don't know why, but I really want to see him take his first bite of food. It's exciting, seeing him get to experience all these firsts. "Go on, take a bite, tell me what you think, unless angels are supposed to be vegetarians since they love all of God's creatures."

"Well, I don't think I'm going to meet my early demise because of a little cheeseburger," he says, picking up the burger awkwardly. He knows how to eat since he's seen me do it enough times, but I can still sense his apprehension. He leans forward and takes a bite. "Oh wow…oh wow," he mumbles and I laugh at his reaction.

"Good?"

"Why didn't I put in the request to be a human before?"

"It's not all food and sex, Chris," I rub his back as I take off the other cloche and reveal my spaghetti and meatballs. He eyes it critically. I nod, "go ahead, try it."

After that, he's lost to the food. He scarfs down everything on his plate like he's dying, then eats half of my meal before indulging in the ice cream sundae, which I think nearly gives him an orgasm. I love it all though, my love for him growing every second. I barely finish my food because I need him again. I need him close to me, I need to fell him against my skin. I start kissing his neck to bring him away from his new food obsession.

"Does everything taste this good?" Chris asks.

"No, there's gross stuff out there, but that's why you eat different things, so you know what you like and what you don't," I say, but I don't want to talk about food anymore. I kiss his mouth, tasting the sweet, sugary ice cream flavor still in his mouth. It's intoxicating and pretty soon I'm pushing him down on the bed, discarding him of his boxers because I just can't wait another second.

This time, I dictate the pace, fully seating myself on him as I throw my head back at how full I feel of him. His hands gravitate towards my hips, his fingers skimming over my skin. I bring my face back down and close to his, pressing my breasts against his chest as I kiss his neck, then his chin, working my way up towards his mouth, lavishing him with kisses. He grasps my face in his hands as he arches up into me, making me groan against his mouth.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers as he tears his mouth away from mine. "You're so beautiful."

This only makes me go faster, which makes him thrust harder up into me, and I completely get lost in the sensations of him, the entire world could be burning around us, and I don't think we would notice. I'm not sure what's going to happen from now on, what is really going on, but Chris is mine now, and I'm not going to give him up. I know what love is now. Chris was right, nothing compares to what true love is, and I have it, and nobody can take it away from me.

Afterwards, we're tangled together again on the bed, and I hold his waist tightly, pressing my entire body against his. I just want to feel him, just feel his skin against me, all of me, remind myself that this is really happening and not some vivid dream that will leave me unsatisfied and lonely in the morning. I need to know that he's here. He runs his fingers through my hair, his rhythm slowing down.

"I'm tired," he says, "at least I'm pretty sure that's what it is."

His voice is indeed sleepy and I smile lazily, feeling my own exhaustion creep up on me. "You are, I can tell in your voice. Get some rest."

"Can we do this again tomorrow?"

"You think I'm going to stop you?" I joke and he laughs as I feel his chest rise and fall. He's breathing, actually breathing, and it's the most wonderful sound in the entire universe. He quiets down after that, and I just listen to his heartbeat. It's so strong in his chest. And then I close my eyes and feel my body going up and down with his breath. It's this that lulls me to sleep.

When I wake up the next morning, he's gone.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, reads, and everything. Really winding down now, hope you enjoy the chapter, leave a review if you please!

* * *

I think it's a joke at first.

I think it's a joke, and I'm ready to kill him for scaring me like this. I sit up in bed, the sheet falling loosely around my breasts, but I don't care. There's no way he would just up and leave when I hadn't woken up, unless it was to do something like go to the bathroom or get breakfast or something. He knows that I don't like waking up alone, he _has_ to know. I had a fight with one of my boyfriends who left during the night, and he's seen it, he's seen everything.

"Chris," I call out tentatively, my voice wavering just the slightest bit. I can't let myself get too worked up, especially if this is over nothing. He's here, he's _always_ here, even when I couldn't see him, he was here. He would not just leave me.

Except he can now. He can walk around and he can go outside. He doesn't need me around. He doesn't need to be around me. Then I think I'm being silly, he loves me, he wouldn't just up and leave if he loves me like he says he does. And he's an angel, so lying, it's not exactly in his repertoire. He's an angel, angels don't just cut and run. Now my brain is thinking about whether or not he's actually an angel anymore?

What does it mean if your angel suddenly becomes human? Is there some new angel just sitting around watching me? I quickly scan the room, as if some entity is going to pop up and say, "Boo, I'm your new guardian angel!" But there's nobody there but me, and I know I'm the only one in the room. I don't feel Chris's presence, and when you've had the constant presence for so long, you know when it's here and when it's not, and he's not.

"Um, excuse me, if I do have a new guardian angel, I know all about you guys, like the whole angel deal, so if you want to show yourself, you can," I call out to my room, and for that moment, I'm lucky I'm alone or I'd look crazy.

Nothing happens though. It's just me, sitting there in a big bed alone with a sheet pooled around my lap and naked as the day I was born. It's uncomfortable and I crawl out of bed, locating my clothes. Chris's clothes are not here, and I'm even more worried than I was a few moments before. I slip into my underwear slowly, still looking around, expecting Chris to either show up in the flesh or in the angelic glow I'm used to. He would never abandon me; that thought it just out of the question.

I'm just pulling my shirt when there's a knock at the door. My face flushes and I'm so relieved. Chris probably forgot to get a key when he went to wherever he went. He probably didn't remember he needed one. He was so used to just materializing wherever he went, he didn't remember that now he needs a key. I laugh at myself for being so worried. Of course Chris wouldn't just leave. I nearly skip to the door and throw it open.

"You had me so worried!"

"What?" I look up and I'm startled and disappointed when it's Paul standing across from me. "Were you expecting me?"

"I just…I thought you were someone else," I say quickly, not realizing how that sounds. I did technically break up with Paul the night before even though I haven't been invested in our relationship for a while. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, um, what are you doing here?"

"Did you…were you waiting for someone?" he asks and I have to quickly come up with some plausible lie.

"Just…my…you know, it's nothing, really," I can't cover my ass right now, and I don't really want to do so. I just want Chris, and with each passing moment that he's not here, a new terror strikes at something deep within me. I feel like I'm being battered, but I don't know why. I just want everything to be the way it was a few hours ago. Where is Chris, why isn't he here?

"Okay," Paul stands there nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I don't really like how last night went so…do you think we could talk?"

I don't want him here when Chris comes back (he has to come back), but he looks so despondent that I feel a momentary lapse of pity for him. "Okay, come in," I step aside and let him pass through. He looks like he hasn't slept, and I feel badly for how I handled things last night. In my haze of lust and love, I probably didn't offer him the best explanation for my actions…or really any explanation beyond a few clichés that meant nothing.

"Thanks," he mumbles as he steps into my room. There's no evidence of Chris (I'm trying so hard not to worry), so Paul just walks over to the couch and sits down. "I did something wrong."

"What?" I don't understand. "What did you do wrong?"

"I don't know, that's the thing," Paul turns his eyes up to me, and his hazel eyes are so worn out. I've never seen him like this, and it hits me the depths of his love. While I've been falling in love with Chris, Paul has been falling in love with me, and the pitiful words I gave him last night reverberate through me, and this man deserved better. "I just…I should have protected you more, that's all I can come back on. We had fun, right? I mean, we _did_ have fun, you liked me, right?"

I sigh and I come over to sit down next to him. I grab his right and hold it in between both of mine, bringing it into my lap. "Of course I did, Paul, of course we had fun—"

"I was horrible for not seeing what Sean was doing though. I should have noticed how he was about you, I should have done more to protect you. I didn't do anything. I let him travel in the same car as us, I let him be around you—"

"What happened is _not_ your fault," I reassure him, this broken man before me. How many hours did he spend last night thinking about what he might have done to hurt me so much I had to break up with him? "Paul, believe me when I tell you this is not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. You thought he was your friend, but he wasn't, that's on him, not you. You were great. You're a great guy."

"Then I don't get it, why can't you be with me?"

I want to tell him about Chris, but I can't, not when I don't even know his whereabouts. He's not here, that's all I know, and even if he were here, how do I explain him? How do I even go about introducing him? 'Oh yeah, this is my former guardian angel turned human boyfriend, Chris. He knows everything about me because he's been watching me since I was born.' Yeah, I'm so sure that'll go over well.

"Do you believe in true love?" I ask him, not quite knowing where I'm going with this, but I have to at least try to explain why we're so completely wrong for each other without bringing Chris into this.

"I guess so, I never really thought about the true part of it, but yeah, I believe it can happen."

"Okay," I nod, "I don't mean to sound mean, but you're not my true love, and if I were yours, I just…I think we'd feel it. You didn't do anything wrong, and neither did I, it's just circumstances. The thing with Sean didn't factor into the decision, it was just a matter of bad timing. I care about you, Paul, but it's not love."

"Is there anything I could have done?"

"No," I have to be blunt for it to get through to him. I don't want to be like this, but he needs to hear it just as I need to say it. "I care about you, but it's not love, and I don't want to string you along and make you think that I could because…I can't."

"I'm that bad?" he frowns.

"No, you're just not right for me, that's all, really, that's it, you're just not right for me, and I'm not right for you."

"Is there someone else?" Paul finally asks me, and I figured out he might have thought it earlier, but didn't want to say anything. I pause for a moment because I don't know how to answer that, not really, not without revealing too much or everything. Chris is still not here, and I haven't even heard from him. I don't know what's going on, but yes, there is someone, yes, Chris _is_ someone, even if he's not here physically.

"Yes," I admit, and he nods like he knew all along. "I'm sorry, Paul, but…there's history between me and this guy, and…it's just complicated."

"You love him," Paul says, and I take a deep breath and nod.

"I didn't cheat on you," I tell him quickly, "I thought I had no shot, none whatsoever, and when I started dating you it was because I liked you, and I liked being around you so I wanted to try. That's what it was, it wasn't to try and forget him, it was how I felt about you, but…things changed."

Oh boy did they change. I know I'm not being a hundred percent truthful with how I started dating Paul, but he's already upset and I don't want to rub it in anymore. Maybe Chris got in trouble with God for what happened. Can you get in trouble with God? Wait, Satan, yeah, so you can get in trouble with God. Wait, what if Chris is in hell? Is that even possible? Could God have cast him down?

"Stephanie?" Paul's voice cuts through me. I stare up at him, but not really seeing him. All I can picture is Chris, down there, hell, birds picking at his live or having to roll a stone up a hill, I don't know, my brain is jumbled, I think I'm mixing up my Christianity with my Greek mythology, and it's frightening. Chris didn't do anything, he didn't do anything that could warrant him being sent there, but what if falling in love with me is enough to make him an enemy of God. I don't know what's going on. "Stephanie!"

"I'm sorry, what?" I shake my head, but the thoughts won't leave me.

"Are you okay? You suddenly got pale, and you were acting a little strange," he turns his hand, which I'm still holding and he grabs one of mine, holding it tightly. "Are you sick?"

"No, nothing like that," I tell him, "I think, I think I just need to be alone, I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry I came here, I just…I just felt like there was a reason, and now I've found it, there's another guy," Paul shrugs like he doesn't care, but he does, and I've hurt him.

"Paul, I never set out to hurt you, you know that, right?"

"Stephanie, you're one of the nicest people in the world. You're warm and caring to every person you meet, I know you didn't set out to hurt me. It doesn't mean I'm not angry or hurt or upset, it just means I know it wasn't your intention."

"Thank you."

"What can you do?" he shrugs. "That's life. I guess I'll see you at work, yeah?"

"Yeah," he shows himself out, and I sink further into the couch, pulling up my legs and curling myself up into a ball. I wait there, sitting, staring at the carpet, willing Chris to come back. I don't know where he is, and the ideas, the theories, the worries pile up in my brain. I don't know how long I sit there, but my stomach rumbling reminds that I should eat something.

It's when I finish my croissant (it's all I'm able to stomach) that I comes to the realization he's not coming back, at least not like he was before. Maybe he's still my guardian angel, and he's here, but doesn't want to show himself, doesn't want to see my face fall when I realize that I can't have him, that one night is all I will ever get of him. Maybe that's why he hasn't shown his face, maybe he doesn't want me to hurt. He loves me after all, more than just a guardian angel. He loves all of me, every part of me, he's in love with me in a way an angel never could before.

"Chris," I whisper into the air of the room, but it's still and quiet, and it's like the only air that shifts is the air right outside my mouth where my words curl into the stillness.

"Chris," I say again, but still nothing, so I just continue. "I don't know if you're here or not, but if you are, I'll understand. I got one night with you, and if that's all I'll ever get, it won't be enough, but it's something, you know. I know you've been here my entire life, but I never felt like I got to know you, and once I did, yes, I fell in love with you because how could I not. You've loved me for me for my entire life. But more than that, you fell in love with me when it was completely against your nature.

"That means something, and it always will, but if it can't be, if we can't be, I'm still going to need you. And I know it'll be painful, it'll be painful for me too, but if you're there, if you're here, please, Chris, you can't just leave me. You cannot just leave me here without you. I need to feel your presence, please."

There's nothing.

"Chris, please," I plead, putting my heart and everything else out there, I'm begging now, my voice is low and soft and sad.

There's still nothing.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and reads and everything associated with that. I'm thinking maybe the next chapter is the last, so I hope you enjoy this one while it's here, and if you review, that's awesome of you, thanks. :)

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He's gone.

Or at least he's not showing himself, but it might as well be the same difference. Either way, he's not here, he's not showing himself, and I don't know what to do with myself. If he went back to being an angel, I could have dealt with it. It would have hurt for a while, possibly a long while, but I would have eventually gotten over it as long as he was there, as long as I could talk to him, but this, this is worse than anything I could have imagined.

It's been six days since he disappeared, and there hasn't been a trace of him since. I've tried everything I could think of, praying, going to churches, I think I even confused the hell out of a priest, but still, nothing. It's not like I would even know where to look if he's still human, and if he's human, what the hell is wrong with him, just leaving like that? I just, there's just no way that he could have left me of his own volition, his love for me is…well, it's eternal.

"Stephanie?"

I look up and see my mother starting to sit next to me. I didn't even notice her come into the room. My parents invited me over for dinner, and since my life is now in shambles, I might as well. I haven't been eating well, and I haven't been sleeping well, and even though I say that it's not a big deal, and that it's just happening, I know a part of me is hoping he'll notice, see me wasting away and show himself again. I know it's a pathetic plan, but I feel pathetic right now so why not go full-out with that?

I mean, I've pretty much hit the bottom of the barrel, haven't I?

"_Chris," I lay there, staring at the wall as if he'll walk through it, laugh and hover himself around me. "If you're there, and maybe you are, maybe you aren't, I can't feel you anymore, but if you are there, I promise, it's okay to come back. I just want you to come back."_

_For the first time ever, I feel like he's not even there. Even when he disappeared before when I was so angry with him, I still felt him. I still knew he was there, but this time, it's different. My eyes sting with tears because all I want is to feel his presence. I just want to feel like he's here with me. When I close my eyes, I can still feel his fingers ghosting across my skin, his touch so reverent, like he couldn't believe he actually got to touch me. If I think real hard, I really feel like he's there, but then I open my eyes and the feeling is gone, and I'm left feeling cold._

"_I don't care how you are, and I don't care what I am or what you are, I just need you here with me, if you're here, Chris, if you are, please, I'm begging you…" My tears start to fall, a torrent of them, and I feel like I could cry for a thousand years, that's how deep the chasm is. He's been with me my entire life, being there, protecting me, and now he's gone, and I feel empty._

"_Please, Chris, please…"_

I never want to relive that night. I cried myself to sleep, and after that, no more tears would come. I don't know if it's because I'm all cried out or because I'm just too tired to cry, but I can't do it anymore. "Stephanie?"

I look over at my mother again, and she's giving me the look of concern. I know that I look worse for the wear, but I try to keep my chin up, "Yes, Mom."

"I've been worried about you," she says gently, and there it is.

"Mom, I'm okay, why worry?"

"You just haven't been yourself for the last week, not since your break-up with Paul. I know that you're probably going through a mourning period, but really, sweetheart, we both know that was going nowhere." I want to laugh because sometimes my mom is so like my dad and she doesn't even realize it. Her solution to getting over things is to just plow on through to the next thing.

I also want to laugh because she actually thinks I'm torn up about Paul. I wish I could say I gave him a lot of thought over the last week, that I still felt guilty for the way I broke up with him, but that'd be a lie. I'm not sorry about that. This week has been filled with a lot of things, but regret over breaking up with Paul is not anywhere on the list. I liked him, but that's not what this is.

But how to tell that to my mom? Oh well, blunt is always the way of the McMahons. "I'm not torn up about him, in fact, I'm very much over that. Like I told you, I'm fine."

"Stephanie, we both know that's not true. You've barely left the house in the past week, you've been working overtime at work, you look…well frankly, you look a little harried, like you didn't even bother to get ready to come here."

"This is your house, Mom, I'm not here to impress everyone."

"What's going on?" she asks me, and I really just want to leave now. If I told my mom the truth, she would call me crazy, think I legitimately need to go to a mental institution or at the very least get checked out at a hospital with a psych evaluation. I don't need one. I've long since established that I'm not crazy.

"Nothing, I told you."

"Don't lie to me, young lady," she chastises me like I'm fifteen again. I roll my eyes, but she grabs my hands and makes me look at her. I stare uncomfortably into her eyes for a moment before I have to look away. My mom has always been one of my best friends and seeing her looking at me with such concern breaks the dam a little bit. "I just…I have a friend, and we kind of had a falling out."

"Who? Who is it?"

"Not important," I tell her, "I just had a fight with someone, sort of, and it was just nothing, I'd rather not talk about it if it's at all okay with you, Mom."

"Are you sure this isn't about Paul…or it is what…well, what I heard happened with Sean. I can't believe that man would ever try anything, and while your father was there too, what kind of man…"

"Mom, it happened, we can't change that."

"I've heard that Sean has been pretty freaked out by something that happened, he insists a chair or something came out of nowhere," my mom tells me, and that just makes me think of Chris. I have to bite the inside of my cheek so I don't start crying, but I manage. Remember, no more tears, I'm not going to let anymore fall.

"Everything happened so quickly," I tell her, shrugging, acting like Chris didn't save me, that he didn't suddenly turn human for me and save me from whatever Sean was going to do. My mind relives the moment, when everything changed. His face, so scared, confused, terrified really, and me running out of there. "I don't remember much."

"I think he's just gone crazy, thank God he's fired and away from you," my mom hugs me, "if anything happened to you. But you must have a helluva guardian angel watching over you."

I pull away quickly, "What do you mean by that?"

"Mean by what?" she asks in confusion.

"The guardian angel thing, what do you mean by that?"

"Oh, sweetie, I was just joking, I know you're not religious, I'm just saying it was fortunate that nothing happened to you," she pats me on the arm, but I don't know, maybe it's my disappointment in Chris leaving me, but I can't let the subject go just yet.

"Do you believe in them though? I mean, you personally, do you believe in guardian angels?"

She shrugs, thinking for a moment, "Oh, I don't know, sweetheart, I suppose the thought is nice, having someone watching over you, making sure you're safe, it's a nice thought. I'd like to think if I had one it's my own grandmother."

"I don't think it works that way," I tell her, letting a little bit of my life slip into her consciousness. She stares at me, and I just continue, furrowing my brow as I think of him. "I think…I think we all have one, like we're given one when we're born, and they just stay with us until it's time to go."

"That's beautiful," my mom kisses my temple, "I'm glad yours was around the other day, that's for sure. Whoever they are, they've done a good job."

"Yes, yes he has," I nod as my father comes into the room, not giving my mother a chance to ask why I would think my guardian angel is a man.

"I can't believe the hard press these people are making for this particular wrestler," my dad isn't necessarily irate, but he's definitely not in a good mood. "I'm glad to get Sean's salary off the books, but from the way everyone talks of this guy, you'd think he was the second coming of Hulk Hogan."

"Who's Dad talking about?" I ask my mom.

"Oh, there's been a few calls from some of the indie promotions about a wrestler that is pretty good from their standards. They sent your father some tapes of him a couple weeks ago, was it?"

"Something like that, I'm not even sure I remember," my dad chuckles, "I just remember seeing the tapes on my desk and remembering that I was told to watch them. I just don't need to be constantly bugged about it. I've already had JR talk with him, he sounds like a nice guy, good stock, but I don't need to be constantly bothered by it."

"I've seen the tapes, he's really quite good, it's amazing we haven't heard about him yet."

"I'm just glad we're snatching him up before WCW does," my dad cackles because he loves when he gets one over on our rival company. It's actually pretty funny when you think about it. My dad says that this isn't really a competition, but he feels like it is.

"Oh, Dad, always having to beat someone," I laugh for the first time in forever it seems. It feels good, and I still miss Chris, but maybe this has to be my life now. He must have heard me when I was talking about guardian angels, and still, he won't show his face. If that's the case, maybe I should just give up. Maybe I'll never see him again. Maybe he thinks that's for the best considering we can't be together. One night was all we got, one perfect night and maybe that's how he wants me to remember him.

I kind of hate him if that's the case.

"We wouldn't be McMahons if we weren't, and Linda, can you set the table for four tonight?"

"Is Shane coming?" my mom asks, but since my brother is never without Rissa, it can't before him.

"No, it's this new guy, he was in the area, and I invited him to dinner, I figured that would get the promoters off my back for a while," my dad reasons. "He should be here any minute, I want to get in a call with JR before he does though, just to get some more background information on him. Stephanie, can you watch out for him?"

"Of course, Dad," I smile at him, settling back into the couch as I grab the remote and turn on the large TV. My mom disappears into the kitchen, grumbling about my father inviting someone over for dinner while my dad goes back to his office as I hear the door click. I curl up on the couch and wallow in the weirdness that is my life when the doorbell rings. I realize I don't even know this guy's name, but I forge ahead, going to the front door. I give myself a quick once-over in the hall mirror to make sure I don't look like a total mess in front of a stranger before I open the door.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't get your name—"

It's Chris.


End file.
